Guilty As Charged
by WindeSprite
Summary: AU: Inuyasha is in a juvenile reform center for the murder of the prostitute Kikyo, although he pled innocent. Kagome, a stereotypical "good girl", needs many more community service hours before she can graduate, but the only opportunity is at juvy. IK MS
1. Sentence

**_Guilty As Charged _**

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**Chapter One:**

**SENTENCE**

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     "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

     "Yeah, whatever."

     The judge's brow furrowed in displeasure.  "Son, this is the court of the state of California—and in your case, this oath should not be taken lightly."

     " 'I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth'… and stuff.  Happy?"

     The slightly overweight, balding judge glared at the apathetic teen slouching in the straight-backed chair.  "Yes.  Thank you.  But you can do without the attitude.  I will not stand for such in _my _court."

     "Feh," Inuyasha said softly.

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     "Inuyasha Takahashi was seen entering the room of the prostitute Kikyo Ito at 8:24 p.m. on the night of May 12, 2004, and seen leaving the room at 8:31 p.m. that same night.  Miss Ito was found on her bed the next morning at 9:05 a.m., dead, from several stab wounds, the pimp, Onigumo.  The following witnesses will testify that shouting was heard from the room above, then abruptly silenced after Inuyasha stormed out."

     "So in the span of seven minutes we had sex, argued, and then I killed her?" murmured Inuyasha to his lawyer, Myoga.

     The plump old man gave a longsuffering sigh.  "Inuyasha…"

     "Does that sound reasonable to you?  Look at those fools in the jury, they're falling for it!  Just because the prosecutor is handsome and persuasive…"

     "He is the best in Southern California," said Myoga, adjusting his bifocals.  "You can't deny it."

     "Nothing you can't go up against, old man.  I've seen you in action; you can make that stupid Shichinintai joker look like a high school Debate Club member."

     "Bankotsu Shichinintai is no novice.  He's good…very good."

     "Not getting nervous are you?  C'mon, you haven't even given the defense yet." 

     Myoga huffed indignantly.  "I, nervous?  You presume much, young cub."

     "That's 'pup' to you."  He cracked his neck.  "What a pain in the ass.  When's this trial gonna be over?"

     "When they declare you innocent or guilty.  And don't be complaining—you pled innocent."

     "So?" Inuyasha said defiantly.  "What are you trying to say?"

     "Nothing, nothing," soothed Myoga.  "I'm just explaining why you have to go through the trial.  If you'd pled guilty, that would have been it."

     "It's almost as if they're punishing me for _not_ doing the crime," Inuyasha muttered.

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     "And the jury proclaims you… guilty."

     The two legs of the chair Inuyasha was leaning back in crashed to the floor.  "_What_?"

     "Guilty."

     "That's ridiculous!" Inuyasha growled.  "I didn't kill her!  I—I _loved_ her!  I told her to leave her job and spend her life with me—so she wouldn't have to work like…like that anymore!  But she refused!  She said I didn't mean it and that I would only use her…just like every other man in her life.  I stormed out…and now I'm being accused of _murder_?"

     "Not 'accused of' any more," Bankotsu sneered.  "You're guilty.  Touching as your little tale is, puppy—no pun intended—the jury doesn't believe it."

     "I cannot believe this," Inuyasha ground out, his hands clenched in fists. 

     "Oh come off it, it's not the end of the world.  You got off easy because you're only seventeen; you were tried as a juvenile, not an adult.  They'll throw you in a juvenile reform center for three years, then you're free to go."  Bankotsu smirked.  "Stop sulking and accept your punishment."

     "Shut up!" Inuyasha bellowed.  "How will you live with yourself, after sending an innocent to jail?"

     "Juvenile Reform Center, not jail," Bankotsu corrected coldly, his blue-indigo eyes narrowing with displeasure.  "And in the jury's—and the state's—eyes you are guilty."

     "You—!"

     "That's enough!" the judge said sharply, banging his gravel loud enough to be heard over the shouting.  "Guards, escort Mr. Takahashi to the vehicle that will transport him to the Los Angeles Juvenile Reform Center.  That will be his home for the next three years."

"Damn you!" Inuyasha shouted, as he was being dragged away by the two hulking men in uniform.  "You've defiled Kikyo's memory!  Her murderer is out there, scot free, while you send me to jail!"

     "Juvenile Reform—" started Bankotsu

     "Would you shut the hell up already?!"

     "I'm sorry Inuyasha," Myoga whispered to him as he was dragged by.  "I'll do everything in my power to get you out of there."

     "Whatever," said Inuyasha bitterly, looking away.  _They don't believe me now, why should they later?  What a screwed up world this is.  _

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     "Morning Kagome!  Do you want some eggs…for…breakfast?"  Mrs. Higurashi trailed off as her daughter raced down the stairs and out the door.

     "No, Mama, I'm late today!  See you after school, love you, bye!" came the distant shout.

     "Kids," Grandpa grumbled.  "Why, in my day, we would eat a hardy breakfast the moment the sun came peaking over the horizon!  It wouldn't do to start a day of backbreaking menial labor with an empty stomach.  Which reminds me of that story of folklore from ancient Japan where—"

     Mrs. Higurashi sighed.  "Sota, could you please close the door?"

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     "Kagome, you're late," Eri whispered playfully as her friend slid into the seats in the auditorium.  "The meeting started thirty seconds ago."

     "Oh, shut up," Kagome whispered back, a smile on her face.  She adjusted her skirt, smoothed down her wind-blown hair, and then relaxed into the uncomfortable chair.  "Do you have any idea _why _they chose to make this meeting first thing in the morning?"

     Ayumi shrugged.  "So we can mull over the fascinating things they have to tell us all day long?"

     Kagome and Yuka snorted.

     "Welcome to our very last NHS meeting of the year!" the blonde NHS sponsor chirped into the microphone, nearly blowing the eardrums of every student present.  The entire auditorium winced.  "For all of our new juniors—welcome!  For all of our departing seniors—an even bigger welcome to you!  I know all of you have a million things on your mind, but please try and pay attention for this short meeting."

     Half the members of the club were already caught up in the latest gossip.

     "I know graduation is close—"

     "Eeee!" Eri squealed.  "I'm so excited!  We graduate in exactly _four weeks!_"

     "Also known as one month," Yuka said under her breath.

     "Hush, guys, I want to listen to this," Kagome said.

     "—has come to my attention that many of you seniors have not completed enough community service hours to graduate!  It's cutting awful close, guys—and some of you haven't even come _near _the requirement.  I suggest that you find somewhere to rack up those hours and get cracking!"

     "Aw, crap," Kagome said, dropping her head into her palm.

     "What's the matter, Kagome?" Ayumi asked.  "Haven't gotten enough hours yet?"

     "Nowhere near I need to be," she mumbled.

     "Kagome!  Knowing you, I would have thought you'd be done at the beginning of your junior year!" said Eri.

     "Yeah, well… I was busy!  It's not easy studying hard enough to get a—"

     "1500 on the SAT," her friends chanted in unison.

     "Yes, we know," Yuka added.

     Kagome grinned sheepishly.  "That sounded pretty boastful, didn't it?"

     "It's okay, Kagome!" Eri twittered. 

     "Yeah, we know you're not trying to make us feel stupid on purpose," Yuka said, winking.

     Kagome made a face.

     "So, how are you going to get your hours in?" Ayumi asked.

     "Dunno."  Kagome shrugged.  "Any suggestions?"

     Her three friends answered in the negative. 

     "But you better hurry," Ayumi warned, "before all the volunteer positions around town are taken."

     "Yeah, good idea."  Kagome stretched and yawned.  "I'll research some options after school…"

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_Next Day _

     "Kagome!  Do you know how you're going to get your community service hours yet?"

     "Oh…right…I'll call up some places tomorrow.  Gotta go, Mama, I'm late, love you, bye!

     …

     "Sota—?"

     "Yeah, yeah, I'll go close the door."   

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_Two Days later _

     "Kagome, have you gotten any hours in yet?" Yuka asked, leaning against her locker.

     "Oh…" Kagome's hand hovered above the book she was about to grab.  "Right…"

     Yuka steeled her with a look.  "You don't even know what you're going to do yet, do you?"

     "Hey, I never said I wasn't a procrastinator…"

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_Four Days later_

     "The Juvenile Reform Center?" Kagome squeaked.

     "That's right."  The guidance counselor nodded, pushing her bright red retro glasses farther up on the bridge of her nose.  "It's rather late in the year, not many opportunities for community service are available now."

     "But—but—is it—_safe_ there?"   

     "Oh perfectly," the counselor nodded, her glasses sliding down her nose again.  "These boys and girls may have gotten into trouble, but remember that they're being changed for the better even as we speak."  She paused to push her glasses up.  "And keep in mind that they _are _in cells…"

     _Great_.

     "So… what would I…do, exactly?" Kagome asked, resigned to the fact that once again her procrastination had gotten her into a "fine kettle of fish" as her Grandpa would say.

     "Just be a friend, dear!" the guidance counselor said, pushing a paper clip onto some papers.  "Most of these kids don't even have one visitor in a year.  Talk to them, read to them, discuss politics, movies, celebrities, I don't know.  You'll think of something."  She glanced at the clock.  "Twelve o'clock!  Lunch break!  I hope that helped you dear, now back to class, there's a good girl."

     "Juvenile Reform Center," Kagome muttered disbelievingly to herself as she rose from her chair.  "Mom's gonna love this…"

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     "The _what?"_Mrs. Higurashi shrieked.  "You're going to volunteer at the _what?!" _

     "The Juvenile Reform Center."

     "The _jail_?"

     "Not exactly—"

     "Kagome, those kids are criminals!  Convicts!  Who knows what they've done to earn time in that place!"

     "I'm sorry, but what do you want me to do?  I have no other options left!"

     "And whose fault is that, young lady?"

     "Mine, yes, I know!  But what am I supposed to do, not graduate?"

     "That would certainly teach you a lesson…"

     "Mama!" Kagome groaned.  "Please!  Don't make this harder than it already is."

     "I don't like this, Kagome."

     "Neither do I, but I don't have a choice.  I need to get these hours in about…three weeks now."

     Mrs. Higurashi sighed.  "Fine.  You can volunteer—with a couple of conditions that we'll discuss later, of course."

     "Right.  Thanks, Mama!" Kagome smiled brightly.

     Her mother smiled back, albeit a bit weakly.  "So…just how many hours do you need?"

     Kagome's smile froze.  "Oh…not much…only about—um—twenty-five," she whispered the last word, averting her face.

     "WHAT?!"

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     Inuyasha stared at the bleak grey wall, bored out of his skull.  A week… he'd been in here a week and he was already going crazy.  He had no friends (not that this was a change, but still), he _still _had to go to freaking school, and he was cooped up in this cage half the day!

     "What a life."  He jiggled his foot, his back slumped against the wall.  "Too bad I don't like to read…or write…or draw…or talk to people…"

     "Too bad they don't have TVs in this place," his cellmate added.

     "Was I talking you?" Inuyasha shot back.

     The little kid shrugged and went back to his cat's cradle.  Inuyasha watched with zero interest.  The kid only knew about five different variations, and he did them over…and over…and over…

     "So, kid," Inuyasha drawled.  "What are you in here for?"

     The kid glared at him.  "Why should I tell you?"

     "You don't look very old."

     "I'm ten."

     "Ten?" Inuyasha said in disbelief.  "You look about five."

     "Shut up!"  The small brunette crossed his arms, glaring at Inuyasha with big green eyes.  "And what are you doing here anyhow?  This is your first time, ain't it?"

     "How the hell would you know?" Inuyasha snarled.  This kid was starting to get on his nerves. 

     "'Cause you're not the typical 'bad boy.'  The worst thing about you is you cuss.  You wince every time someone makes a derogatory comment about a girl, you shy away from any kind of weapon, and you absolutely refuse to hang around the booze addicts and druggies.  Are you seeking atonement or something?"

     "Where did you get such a big vocabulary?  Most of my friends don't even know what 'weapon' means."

     The kid shrugged.  "Like you said, there's not much to do here.  I spend most of my time reading the dictionary."

     "You _read _the dictionary."

     "Every other book they got in here is as dry as dust.  Comes in handy during visiting hours. If you sound educated, people think you're not as dangerous.  Great logic there.  They say Hitler was absolutely brilliant."

     Inuyasha couldn't help staring at the kid.  "Are you sure you're not some type of child genius?"

     "I wouldn't know.  My parents died when I was three.  I've been in foster care ever since."

     "And that's why you're in here?"

     "Not exactly… the last foster family I had?  The Lawrences?  Mrs. Lawerence was—if you'll excuse the term—an ass.  I set her on fire."

     Inuyasha nearly choked.  "What, did you throw a match on her?"

     "Of course not," said the kid witheringly.  "I used my fox fire."

     "Oh, so you're a _fox_ demon."

     "No duh."

     "Well, excuse me.  This mildew seems to be clogging up my nasal passages."

     "You're a dog demon?"

     "Half," Inuyasha gritted.

     "Is that why you're in here?"

     "Yeah, probably.  I had Bankotsu Shichinintai as the prosecutor and Lockman as my judge.  Both humans, both anti-demon."

     "Tough break.  Why were you in court in the first place?"

     "Nice try, but no cigar."

     The kid sighed.  "What's your name?"

     What could it hurt?  "Inuyasha."

     "I'm Shippo," the kid beamed.  "Pleased to make your acquaintance!"

     "No, the pleasure's all mine," replied Inuyasha sarcastically.

     "So, Inuyasha," Shippo said, bouncing over to the cot of the former, "what _are _you in here for?"

     "Didn't we cover this already?"

     "Come on, I told you my story!"

     "On the contrary, you just said you set your foster mom on fire."

     "So they put me in here for attempted murder.  Six months.  Better than last time."

     "'Last time'?  How many times have you been in here, kid?"

     "I've been in and out ever since I was five.  I think this is my seventh time."

     "No wonder you've got that dictionary memorized."

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     "Ahhh…"  Kagome sunk into her cushiony chair, savoring the feel of a Friday afternoon with absolutely _nothing _planned for the weekend.  She'd already taken all of her AP exams, so the only classes she had left were ceramics and chorus.  Neither of those ever gave out homework, and the final exams were cinchy. 

     She let out another sigh.  Maybe she'd watch some anime for a couple of hours, or go do something definitely _un_productive like…bake cookies!

     She happily padded down the stairs in her socks, entering the kitchen and heading straight for the pantry.  "Mom, do we have any of those slice 'n' bake cookies?"

     Her mom, busy at the stove, gave her a look.  "Cookies?"

     "Yeah, I have this weird craving—"

     "Are you planning to share them with the kids you're going to visit today?"

     "Huh?" Kagome asked, rummaging though the closet in search for the cookie dough.  "What kids?"

     "The kids at the—the juvenile reform center?"

     "The…"  Kagome groaned, slumping against the wall.  "Aw, man…"

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     "See…pull the strings like this—and there, you've got Jacob's Ladder!"

     "Whoop-de-doo," muttered Inuyasha, although he looked rather pleased with himself.  He quickly untangled the string from his fingers and handed it back to Shippo.

     Shippo yawned.  "Geez, I'm tired."

     "Well that's understandable.  You _were _out clubbing all night."

     Shippo glared at his cell mate.  "Are you even able to say something that's not sarcastic?"

     "You think?"

     The kitsune sighed and flopped on his hard cot. 

     Inuyasha, already sitting on his, leaned against the stone wall and stared out the window.  _Nine days… nine days I've been in here and it already seems like an eternity.  Where the hell is Myoga?  He said he would try and get me out of here._

_     But then, that jury was convinced that I was guilty.  Fools._

_     Kikyo… who hated you enough to kill you? _

     "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

     "Nothing!" said Inuyasha defensively.

     "You've had that look on your face all week.  That pained expression.  Do you have girl problems?"

     Inuyasha stubbornly stared at the opposite wall.

     "It's either that or constipation."

     Inuyasha snorted.  "It would probably be less painful at least."

     "So it _is _a girl.  Who is it?  Huh?  Huh?"  Shippo bounced over to the hanyou's cot and jumped up and down.  "Tell me tell me!  I love secrets!"

     "Good—then you won't mind if I keep this one!"  Inuyasha whacked the kitsune on the head and sent him flying into the opposite wall.

     "You monster!"

     "Quiet down in there!" the guard yelled from his post.

     Both Inuyasha and Shippo glared at him. 

     "Go stuff your face with a donut," Inuyasha said under his breath.

     "You deplorable excuse for a sentinel," Shippo said, putting on his orator's face.  "Thou art to be pitied among men—"

     "What's that from?" Inuyasha asked, getting the feeling he was going to be asking that question a lot.

     Shippo shrugged.  "I dunno.  It sounded good though."

     The hanyou heaved a sigh and resumed his stimulating activity of staring out the barred window.  It was going to be a _long _three years.

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Okay, this time I'm actually going to be consistent with my spelling of Japanese names.    I.e. "Kikyo" "Shippo" "Koga"  — I'm not going to add a "u" on the end (i.e. "shippou" "kikyou").  After I posted the first chapter of _Charade_ I realized that I spelled "Kouga" like so and didn't use a "u" for any other name…  Anyhow.  Just wanted to make that clear.

Anyhow, what do you think?  Tell me the good, the bad, the in-between.  Push that little button in the left-hand corner…   Watch for Chapter Two!


	2. Acquaintance

**_Guilty As Charged _******

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**Chapter Two: **

**Acquaintance **

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     The large, boxy tan building was situated directly behind the most prestigious private school in the city.  As Kagome signaled and turned onto the street that the two completely opposite buildings shared, she smiled at the irony the two buildings created.  The epitome of "good" and the epitome of "bad"—stereotypically, that is.

     She shook her head.  _Just go in there and get this over with.  It's only for two hours a day… _ 

     She pulled up next to the guard's booth and rolled her window down, trying not to be intimidated by the barbed wire that decorated the tops of the ten-foot walls surrounding the center.  "Hi…" she told the guard, who stared at her behind his large sunglasses.  "My name's Kagome Higurashi and I'm here to complete some community service hours."

     "Oh, you're the one," the guard said in relief, his eyes taking in the new silver Mustang and her fashionable clothes.  Obviously, he was wondering what a girl like her was doing driving into juvy.  "Right then.  You can park in the Visitors lot and enter through the visitors door.  Just show this—" he handed her a slip of paper—"to the receptionist and tell them that you've come to help out.  She'll tell you what to do." 

     "Thanks," Kagome said, taking the paper.  She rolled up her window and proceeded into the parking lot.  She pulled into one of the many empty spaces, parked her car, and turned off the ignition.

     And sat there.

     The butterflies that started fluttering whenever she was nervous had decided to visit her again.  _What if Mom's right?  I really don't belong here.  These people could be dangerous—no, they probably ARE dangerous!  What exactly am I going to do there?  Play Pictionary with the inmates? _

     She snorted.  "Well, you're never going to find out just by sitting here," she told herself.   That said, she pushed open her car door with resolve, only for it to swing back and hit her in the knees.

     "_Ouch_…"

     This was definitely not her day.

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     "Yes?" the heavily made-up receptionist raised a carefully-plucked eyebrow at Kagome.  "What is it you want?"

     "Um…yes… I'm here to—to help out," she stammered, showing the lady the slip of paper the guard had given her.  "For community service?"

     The receptionist's brows lifted even higher.  "Community service?  You?  Young lady, are you quite certain about this?"

     "Well…"  _It's not like I have a choice… _"Yes.  Yes, I am."

     "All right then," the lady said doubtfully, pulling a pencil out from behind her ear.  "What'd you say your name was?"

     "Kagome Higurashi.  That's H-I-G-U-R-A-S-H-I." 

     "Thank you, dear."  The lady penciled her name into a slot in her large planner.  "And will you just be working for today?"

     "Um… actually, every day if that's all right…"

     "_Every _day?" the receptionist echoed incredulously.

     "Yes ma'am, if that's all right."

     "No, it's wonderful… just not that many people are willing to do such a thing."

     "Eh heh…" Kagome decided not to go into all the details.  "So, am I in?"

     "You surely are.  We need all the community service we can get, but we don't get many young people willing to volunteer here."

     _I'm sure.  _"So, what exactly will I be doing?"

     "I'll let the head of the center know you're here.  He'll give you the introductory speech."  She stood and walked across the plain gray room towards the door on the side.  "Follow me."

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     "How do you think the time periods that John Locke and Thomas Hobbes lived in effected their theories?  Jeremy, what were these theories?" Ms. Halliday, the resident history teacher of the center, asked.

     "Hn?" the spikey-haired boy jerked awake from his doze.  "What'd I miss?"

     "I said—"

     "What class is this again?"

     "European History—"

     "Nevamind."  The boy's head dropped back on his chest and he promptly fell asleep.

     "Mr. McCormick!"  Where Jeremy didn't answer, she sighed.  "Fine, I'll just have to give you extra homework."

     "Like that would make a difference," Shippo whispered to Inuyasha from their place in the back of the room.  "He never does homework anyway.  All that'll do is give him more homework to _not _complete."

     Inuyasha grunted.  For some reason, the kit seemed to consider himself Inuyasha's shadow and stuck to the hanyou like glue.  The kitsune cracked some good jokes sometimes, but was generally an annoying little brat.

     _Just what I need, a whiny little brother.__  I've progressed from an older brother who threatened me daily with murder to a kid who would drive me to murder.  _

     "Shippo, can you tell me the answer, since Jeremy is indisposed for the present?"

     "Sure!" Shippo chirped, sitting up straighter.  "Thomas Hobbes was raised during the reign of King Charles  I, the  beheading of the aforementioned by the soon-to-be Lord Protector Oliver Cromwell, and then subsequent civil war that followed, while John Locke, on the other hand, lived during the time of the 'Glorious Revolution,' in which William and Mary of Orange were invited to become the monarchs of England—with a few stipulations of course—which was a 'revolution without blood.'  Consequently, Hobbes viewed mankind as a naturally evil and self-centered creature, and in this case, a Leviathan, or absolute monarch was the only option for rule.  Locke, however, saw man as naturally good, but corrupted by his environment: therefore, if one's environment was improved, the morality of man would improve."

     The entire classroom was filled with slack jaws and black stares.  Inuyasha had gotten lost after "beheading."

     "Well…thank you, Shippo," Ms. Halliday finally said, leaning sideways a bit to look for the hidden textbook.  "That was quite an explanation."

     Shippo beamed.

     "Suck up," Inuyasha said under his breath.

     "Now, Mr. Takahashi, would you compare and contrast the theories of Marx and Lenin?"

     "Huh?  Me?"

     "Yes, you.  Your name is Mr. Takahashi, is it not?"

     He winced.  _Mr. Takahashi _was what Sesshomaru had insisted all of his neighbors, friends, and even Inuyasha, call him.  The hanyou shook his head, as if to clear it of bad memories.  "Um, compare who?"

     "Marx and Lenin.  Their theories."

     _As in Groucho Marx and John Lennon?_he thought humorously.  Great, now he was cracking jokes to himself.  Maybe if he acted stupid she wouldn't call on him any more?"Um…one believed in humor, the other in peace?  What's that one song?  Oh yeah, 'Imagine.'  You—er—_one _could say that this particular song _epitomizes_ the belief of Lennon."  Inuyasha had heard Shippo use the word "epitomizes" that morning.  He was quite proud of himself for working it into a sentence.

     Ms. Halliday blinked rapidly, at a loss for words.  "I…uh…I think that'll be all for today.  Onto physical education, now, class…"

     "Boy, Inuyasha, did you sound stupid," Shippo said, hopping onto the hanyou's shoulder.  "Don't you even know who Marx and Lenin were?"

     Inuyasha brushed him off.  "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?  God, are you half monkey demon or something?"

     "Ha ha, so funny I forgot to laugh."

     "You sound like a school kid."

     "I _am_ in fourth grade."

     "Theoretically, that is," Inuyasha mumbled.

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     "For now, your main tasks will be to clean the cells.  They are in desperate need of a wash.  After that, you can Windex the windows, sweep the hallways, scrub the bars of the cells, and then oil the hinges.  Following that, we may have you tutor a few of the kids here—some are in desperate need of guidance."

     Kagome bit back a sarcastic reply.  _I thought I was here to work with the kids, not play Cinderella! _  

    _ Then again, this'll probably appease Mom.  She'd rather me play maid than socialize with convicts._

     "Great," she said with a rather stiff smile.  "When do I begin?"

     "Right now.  You can start will Cell One.  You'll find all the cleaning supplies you need in the closet down the hall."

     Her smile became even more fixed.  "Great…"

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     "No fair, Inuyasha!" Shippo squealed as the hanyou stole the basketball away from him for the tenth time that round.  "You're bigger than I am!"

     "Them's the breaks, kid," he said, tossing the ball into the net with a casual lay-up.  "What's the score now, Ref?"

     The Ref, a pudgy, slow pothead called Manten, screwed up his face in concentration.  "Umm, 35 to 3, Inuyasha's team in the lead."

     "Sweet."  Inuyasha shook his long hair away from his face, causing beads of sweat to fly. 

     "Yo, Inuyasha, ever heard of passing the ball?" one of Inuyasha's team members groused.

     "Do you want points or not?" he threw back.

     "Just what are you trying to say?"  The brawny boy clenched his fists and stalked towards the white-haired half-demon.

     "Take it easy, dude," Inuyasha said coolly, "I wouldn't suggest grappling with a demon."

     "_Half_-demon," another voice said from behind.

     Inuyasha turned to find the captain of the other team grinning at him.  "What of it?  I can still kick your ass any day."

     "Right," the wolf demon scoffed, throwing his long, black ponytail over his shoulder.  "You're all bark and no bite, doggy."  He turned and sauntered away, his ponytail swishing as he walked.  "P.E. is over, kiddies.  Let's all go back to our cells like good boys before the monitor has a fit."     

     "Your head is bigger than your boasts," Inuyasha shouted after him.

     "Don't mess with me, _hanyou_," the demon snarled, whirling around to bare his fangs at Inuyasha.  "Don't forget that I am full demon, descended from the taiyoukai Ken'ichi Ookami."

     "Ooo, I'm really scared now," Inuyasha taunted.  "Don't make me laugh, Wimpy Wolf—bloodlines won't get you anywhere in a battle."

     "Don't make me prove my point."

     "Bring it on."

.

.

.

     Kagome sighed as she shuffled down the hallway.  She glanced at her watch.  She'd only been here for ten minutes.    An hour and fifty minutes to go. 

     Slowing her pace to the point that it looked like she was moving though thick molasses, she focused her eyes on the Supplies Closet door.  _Let's see how long I can take to reach that door…_

     One of the guards passed her by, giving her an odd look.  She flushed and sped up her pace a bit.  _Great.  He probably thinks I'm a mental patient who somehow wound up in the wrong institution. _

     The door to the outside courtyard suddenly flew open with a bang.  A harried-looking man with horn-rimmed glasses rushed inside the hall and nearly cried in relief when he noticed the guard. 

     "Sergeant Fitzpatrick!" he shouted.  "A fight!  There's a fight outside between two boys!"

     "Then what the hell are you doin' in here, crying to me?" the meaty sergeant asked. 

     "I can't break it up!  They're demons!  It would be suicide to try and butt in!"

     The sergeant swore and rushed out the door, followed by the frantic monitor.

     Kagome stared after them, wondering what she'd gotten herself into.  _Right.  Definitely not going to tell Mom about this… _

     She finally reached the closet and opened the door—only to have brooms, mops, and buckets full of sponges crash and clatter at her feet.

     _This REALLY isn't my day._

     Grumbling to herself, she picked up the fallen cleaning items and shoved them back into the closet, kicking the ones that she needed aside.  She shoved the door closed (although she had to put a little back into it) and then proceeded down the hallway, her arms full.

     The door to the outside banged open once more, only to produce the meaty sergeant and two young demons who were snarling and snapping at each other.  The white-haired one had a black eye and bruises all over his arms; the black-haired one had an alarming amount of cuts on his face, and his shirt was nearly shredded.  Neither one even glanced her way as they were herded past her.

     Kagome shivered and picked up her pace.  The sooner she got out of here, the better.

.

.

.

     "All right, I'll cut to the chase and forget all that 'fighting is not the right way to solve problems' crap.'  Who started it?"

     "He did," Koga and Inuyasha said at the same time.

     The director of the center leaned back in his cushiony chair and folded his hands over his stomach.  "I have all day."

     "He was being an ass," Inuyasha mumbled.

     "He insulted me," Koga shot back.

     "You are acting like school boys," the director said sternly, ending the blaming.  "Hopefully you both realize that this cannot go unpunished.  We do not tolerate fighting in this center.  Perhaps, Mr. Takahashi, being our newest addition, you do not know this—but I will _not _let you off this one time."

     _Damn._

     "Your punishment," he went on, "is to clean the entire grounds of this center every evening for a week."

     The demons knew better than to protest this punishment.  But that didn't stop them from glaring at each other accusingly.

     "You will report to my office at seven o'clock this evening," the director instructed.  "Sharp."  He nodded curtly and picked up his phone, dialing.  "You're dismissed."

     "Thank you, sir," Koga said respectfully, rising from his chair.

     Inuyasha followed suit, but said nothing.  

     Koga nudged him.  "Thank the director, moron."

     "Why should I?  I shouldn't even be here in the first place."

     "You were fighting just as much as I was."

     "That's _not _what I meant," growled Inuyasha and stormed out of the office.

     Koga stared after him.  "What the hell was that all about?"

.

.

.

     After Kagome had lugged her cleaning supplies down the entire length of the hallway, she finally reached Cell One.  _I'll bet he deliberately gave me the cell the farthest distance from where we were standing.  Stupid-head. _

     She looked dismally at the cell.  Since it was just "reform center" and not a jail, the cells all had simple locks that could be unlocked from the outside… and from the inside, if one just reached through the bars and managed to slide the bolt out of its holder.  Though there _were _guards stationed in the hallway twenty-four hours a day…

     She fleeting wondered why all the cells in this hallway (each hallway had ten cells) were empty.  Shrugging the thought away, she bracingly moved into the cell, as if she expected some criminal to jump out at her.  Obviously, nothing did… except a small brown mouse that skittered across the floor towards her feet.

     Kagome shrieked and jumped aside, plastering herself against the wall.     

     _Ugh! _

It took her a whole five minutes to work up her courage to venture into the cell.  Fifteen minutes, later, and she'd only managed to scrub one-quarter of the cell's floor with a mop.  It took her another forty-five minutes to clean the entire stone floor.

     _Well, at least I only have an hour left now.  Time really flies when you're working like a dog, huh? _

     She leaned the mop against the wall, glaring at it in disgust and moved on to scrubbing the absolutely filthy window.  You could barely see out of the glass—if it _was _glass; it looked more like sandpaper.

     She stood up on her tiptoes, trying to reach the very top.  She'd only been scrubbing for a few minutes when she suddenly got this weird tingly feeling on the back of her neck… like someone was staring at her…

She whirled around and nearly screamed when she suddenly found herself nose-to-nose with one of the demons she'd seen earlier.  "I—I—I—" she stupidly stuttered.

     "You what?" he said, staring at her with deep greenish-bluish eyes.  "What are you doing in my cell?  And who are you, anyhow?  The new cleaning lady?"

     "N-no!" she managed.  "I—my name is Kagome Higurashi.  I'm cleaning because I want to get service.  I mean hours.  I mean community service hours.  I need them for school—"

     "A volunteer?"  He suddenly grinned, his fangs flashing in the light.  "Pretty brave, aren't you?  Most girls like you wouldn't set a foot in this hellhole."

     "H-hellhole?"

     "Can you say a single word without stuttering?" he frowned.

     "Y-yes—I mean, yes."  She took a deep breath.  "Am I in your way?  I can always go clean another cell or…something."

     "You're fine.  I don't get to see females very often.  This'll be a treat for me."  He flopped himself down on his mattress and fixed his gaze on her.  "I'll just watch, if you don't mind."

"Um…"  _What am I supposed to say?  "Actually, I do mind"?  Yeah, right.  _She turned awkwardly, feeling weird about keeping her back to this guy—she didn't know who he was or what he was in here for—

     _Oh, God, please, don't let him be in here for rape…  _

.

.

.

     Inuyasha forlornly shuffled into his cell, slamming the door behind him, ignoring the grumbled curses of the hall monitor who locked the bars behind him.  He flopped onto his bed, closed his eyes, and pretended that he wasn't stuck in this _kazaana_.  How the hell had it all happened?  He'd never _meant _to fall in love with Kikyo—he hadn't even known she was a hooker when he first met her.

     _"Damned rain," Inuyasha grumbled as he shut the heavy church door behind him.  Of course, the day he didn't bring his umbrella with him, it would start to pour.  And the building closest to the school bus stop would be the catholic church._

_     He shifted uncomfortably in the foyer.  Churches weirded him out.  Even if he was just hiding from the rain.  He was glad it was Thursday; the only people here would be him and the pastor.  Maybe a janitor or two.  But janitors were less scary than churchy people.  And God.  He hadn't thought about God in a while.  Ever since his parents died and he was put under his half-brother's care.  Sesshomaru didn't give a crap about God or heaven or hell, but he would have sold his soul to become CEO of the corporation he was working for.  The current, and soon-to-retire CEO, was a devout churchgoer, and Sesshomaru's opponent was a devout atheistic.  Fluffy couldn't care less about religion—or the lack thereof—but he could put up with a few sermons to win a position._

      _Of course, his sadistic brother would make Inuyasha go with him.  That would equal eleven weeks (the CEO was a little too patient for his own good) of sitting through church sermons, preaching about God's love, wondering how the hell all those people could believe in such a thing._

_     He slowly woke from his musings when the sound of singing reached his ears.  Confused, he looked around the dark, deserted church for the source.  _

_And then his eyes fell upon a small figure in the corner, kneeling at the alter rails in front of the table that held the candles people lit, symbolizing their prayers._

_     Wary as he was of churches, he couldn't help but be drawn to the singing.  His feet moved against his will, and he found himself kneeling next to the dark-haired girl singing girl.  He shamelessly stared at the girl, who was singing with her eyes closed, totally oblivious to his presence.  _

     " 'Gloria patri et filio, gloria patri et filio,  
Gloria patri et filio, gloria patri et filio,  
Et spiritui sancto, spiritui sancto,  
Et spiritui sancto, et spiritui sancto—'"

Definitely not English, _he thought.  _Wonder what it is? __

_     Abruptly, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him.  He lost himself in those grey-blue eyes…they were so full of pain… _

  _   "What song was that?" he asked in a hushed tone.  His voice took on an urgency that he couldn't explain.  "What language was that?"_

_     Her mouth curved up in a dainty smile.  "It was Latin.  I'm not sure what it's called."_

_"What do the words mean?"_

_"I don't know that either," she said, shrugging, turning her gaze back to the candles.  She stared at the flames, mesmerized.  "I heard it the choir rehearsing it a couple of hours ago.  I liked it.  It stuck."_

_"Are you part of this church?"  His voice held caution._

_"I'm not part of any church."_

_"You're Catholic?"_

_"I don't go to church."_

_"Why not?"_

_She looked away.  "I'm not worthy of this holy, sacred place."_

_"Then what are you doing here?" he asked, rather rudely._

_She turned on him, her look severe.  "Because," she said in a hard tone, "I guess I hope that if I stay here long enough, some of the goodness will rub off on me."  She sighed.  "But I know that's impossible."_

_"You have a beautiful voice," he found himself saying._

_An odd look flittered across her face.  "Thanks," she finally said._

_He shifted, becoming uncomfortable in his position.  "Do you believe in God?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I don't."_

_"That's ignorant."_

_"…Excuse me?"_

_"How can you possibly say God doesn't exist?" she continued.  "All the beautiful good in the world…how could that come to be without a maker of some sort?"_

_"What good?" he said coldly.  "I have seen no beauty in my life."  Except you, he added silently.  " 'God is dead,'" he quoted._

_She looked at him, those sad eyes staring into his.  "I guess," she said softly, "those who desperately wish for beautiful good… tend to notice those who have it even more."  _

_She suddenly stood.  "It's getting late.  I can't be late for work."_

_"At this time of day?"_

_She didn't answer.  "I hope you find God.  Even if you don't come to church every day or even pray—I hope you at least realize that you are not alone in this world."_

_"I don't believe in God because God is not good," Inuyasha said stubbornly.  "Everyone says he is good—my parents died.  My brother is the reincarnation of Stalin gone nuts, and my school career is basically going down the drain.  How is that good?"_

_She looked him straight in the eyes.  "It's good," she said, "because He is blessing you—and you don't even know it."  Then she turned and walked out of the church._

_Inuyasha stared after her, frozen in place._

_He didn't even know her name… _

::

     Inuyasha grimaced and closed his eyes in pain.  He'd met her again the next week, this time at a restaurant.  It was pitiful how happy seeing her again had made him; he'd thought of nothing but her for the entire week.  At the desperate state he was in, he would almost classify a second sighting of her nothing short of a miracle.

     It was during their quick lunch that he'd learned her name: _Kikyo_.

     They'd met every day for the next three months after that night.

     It had taken her two weeks to actually reveal her job to him; knowing her absolute revulsion of her job, Inuyasha had not done with her what other men paid her to do.  He'd given her the one thing she'd never gotten before: respect.

     And she'd _still _doubted him.  He'd asked her to marry him, dammit, and god knows that if _Inuyasha_ was willing to undertake such a large commitment, he was serious.  But she had turned him down.

     _She didn't trust me._  The pain was still raw and fresh.  He couldn't accept that she was dead—her memory still haunted him.  He'd wanted to make it "all better"—and he couldn't.  He wanted to make her his mate—she died before he could properly propose. 

     He groaned again, this time from physical pain.  That wolf really could hit.

     "Boy, you look a wreck."

     "Shaddup, Shippo."

     "Make me," the kitsune chirped, hopping over to Inuyasha's bunk.  "Whatsa matter, Inuyasha?  Do your bruises hurt?"

     "Sure."  _I hurt inside and out.  I'm a freakin' mess. _

     "You sure look down for just a couple of scrapes.  They'll heal soon enough—especially cuz you're hanyou."

     "Thanks for informing me," said Inuyasha dryly.

     Shippo sighed.  "We really need to stop this sarcastic business."

     "Sorry, bud, no cigar."

     Shippo suddenly bounced up.  "Wow, look, a girl!"

     "Ohmygod, I've never seen one of those before!" Inuyasha mimicked Shippo, his eyes still closed.  "Don't get too excited, kit, they're not that great."

     "Well, thanks a lot," a voice said.  A female voice. 

     He still didn't open his eyes.  "You're not welcome."

     The girl huffed.  "Can you at least open your cage so I can come clean?"

     "Sure!" Shippo bounced over to the bolt, hopped up and down…and then realized he couldn't reach the lock.  "Um…Inuyasha…?"

     "Yeah, Shorty?"

     "Can you—?"

     Inuyasha sighed.  "The things I do for you, kit."  He sat up, grumbling to himself about cleaning ladies and annoying kids…

     And then his gaze landed on Kagome.

     He fell backwards onto his cot in shock, which promptly buckled on its feeble metal legs and crashed to the ground with a gigantic _CRASH_.

     "What the hell—?!"

.

.

.

     "What the hell—?!" the white-haired boy yelled as his cot collapsed under him.

     Kagome watched the whole scene in bemusement.  "Are you okay?"

     The white-haired boy jumped up from his place on the ground and stormed over to the bars.  "What the blazes is this?" he demanded.  "Some kind of sick joke?"

     Kagome backed away, not liking the look on his face.  "I—what?"

     "Who are you, bitch?  I'll bet Onigumo hired you to mock me.  Or maybe Bankotsu.  Maybe both.  Who's your employer, woman?"

     "Huh?  I'm not employed—I'm here for community service."

     "Right," the demon snorted, his eyes never leaving her face.

     She stamped her foot.  She wasn't used to be called a liar.  "I _am! _ I'm only seventeen, you know."

     "So?  People start working at sixteen.  Hookers start as early as thirteen."

     "What exactly are you implying?" she said, her tone becoming dangerous.

     He recognized that tone.  "Nothing," he said sullenly, leaning his forehead against the bars.  "Come closer."

     "No!"  She stepped backwards instead.  "What are you planning?"

     "Don't be so damn suspicious, I'm just going to smell you."

     "Oh, of course, that's above reproach," she answered sarcastically.  "Forget it.  You call tell your jail warden that I'm skipping this cell.  You can rot in your filth for all I care."

     "That's uncalled for," the boy snarled.  "And it's the 'director of the juvenile reform center,' not the 'warden.'  Call him that and you'll be fired quicker than you can say 'juvy.'"

     "Thanks for the warning."  She still didn't move.

     "What's your name?" Shippo piped up.

     Kagome jumped and glared at the tiny fox demon.  _Why should I tell you? _she felt like saying—but then, she had no reason to be rude to the little kit.  Unlike _some _people, she wasn't rude without cause.  "Kagome Higurashi," she said somewhat grudgingly.

     "Pretty name!"

     "Thank you."  At least this boy had manners.  From what she'd seen so far, some kids looked like normal schoolboys, and others—she shot a look towards the scowling white-haired boy—were the epitome of a delinquent.

     "Well," she said, averting her gaze, "I don't see any reason to clean the cell of an ungrateful _boy _like you—so I'll just move along now—"

    "Is this boy giving you trouble, Miss?"

     Kagome jumped.  The uniformed monitor had snuck up behind her.  "I—er—sort of—"

     "Don't let him hold you back from your work," the officer said, "go right on in and do your cleaning.  I'll make sure they don't try and stop you."  He gave her what was supposed to be an encouraging smile.

     She managed a small, strained smile.  "Thanks." 

     The officer slid open the bolt and pushed the barred "door" open with a ear-shattering squeak.  Everyone in proximity to the squeaky door cringed.

    "You might want to oil those hinges while you're here," the white-haired boy smirked.  "May as well make yourself useful."

     "Useful?  You should be glad I'm even here!"

     "Now, be nice to the lady," the officer frowned.  "She's here on her own time, with no pay, helping out you cast-offs of society.  Behave, or I'll report you to the director."

     "Think I give a damn?" the boy retorted, although he retreated into tight-lipped silence after that remark.

     The officer nodded in approval.  "Go ahead, Miss—do your thing."

     "Uh…right…"

     The officer moved back to his place at the desk in the far corner of the hallway and returned to his newspaper.  Kagome warily moved into the cell and dumped her cleaning supplies on the floor.  She sprayed Windex on the filfthy window and started to scrub.  Her paper towel turned into a big lump of brownish mud.  She threw it on the floor.

     "Some maid you are," the white-haired boy grunted.  "Make the cell more dirty."

     "I'm going to pick it up in a minute!" Kagome snapped.

     "What's your problem, Inuyasha?" the little kit asked.  "Why are you so grumpy?"

     "What kind of freaking question is that?" the demon called Inuyasha growled.  "This is the day from hell."  He glared at Kagome.  "And this bitch isn't improving it any."

     That did it.  Kagome threw her filthy paper towel at his face and smirked when it hit, dead on-target.

     "You bitch!"

     "Call me that again and you'll be _eating _this crap."

     "Bitch!"

     She ran over to him, yanked open his jaw, and stuffed the paper towel into his mouth.  She laughed when he spit it out, coughing and gagging.  "I don't make idle threats."

     She wasn't laughing when Inuyasha suddenly flipped her onto the cot and braced her there with his body.  Her mouth fell open and her heart started beating out of her chest with terror.  "Y-you!  G-get off of me!"

He smirked, his fangs peeking out.  "Scared?"

     "You wish!"

     "I _really _don't like you, bitch," he whispered menacingly, his face only inches from hers.  "In fact, it would please me to no end if you never came back."

     "So you're trying to scare me away, huh?"  It was working.

     "Something like that."  He smirked again.  "Either that or the director will forbid you to come back."

     _No!  _"You can't do that!  I need these hours?"

     "Think I give a damn?"

     "You—bastard!  Get the hell off of me!"

     "Wow, the perfect little NHS girl has a potty mouth.  Does your mommy know you cuss?"

     "How did you know I'm from NHS?  And get off me!"

     "I heard you talking to Wimpy Wolf over there.  Think much of yourself, ne?"

     "You couldn't possibly have heard me from all the way over there!"

     "I'm dog demon."  He laughed at her expression.  "Booyah."

     "What is your problem?  You never even met me until today and you already seem to hate me!"

     "Hate is a strong word."

     "You're hedging."

     "That I am."

     "Are you a misogynist or something?"

     "Or something…"

     "Could you get off me now?"

     "Nice try…"

     "Dammit, Inuyasha, get off me!"

     "Only if you say 'pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top—'"

     "Inuyasha, I swear—"

     Suddenly a little ball of fur came flying out of nowhere and landed on top of Inuyasha's head.  "What the—?"  He clawed at it with one hand.  "Shippo, what the blazes do you think you're—doing—"

     Kagome shrieked.  While trying to get the kitsune off of him, Inuyasha had lifted both his arms…and fell full on Kagome.

     "Get off me, you pervert!"

     "Get off me, you little twerp!"

     "Let go of my tail, you meanie!"

     _"What the devil is going on in there?"_ the guard bellowed from his desk in the corner.

     "Nothing!" the girl, half-demon, and kitsune yelled simultaneously. 

     With the help of her legs, Kagome managed to shove the white-haired inmate off of her and onto the floor.  He landed on top of the kitsune, who squealed in pain. 

     Huffing, Kagome got to her feet and stomped out of the cell, leaving the hanyou and the kitsune to squabble between themselves.  She didn't even bother to move the cleaning supplies.  She was done.  She didn't care if she only got an hour in, she was _not _coming back to this hellhole—_ever_ again.

     "Are you leaving already…?  Miss…?" the guard called after her.

     Kagome slammed the door to the hallway behind her in response.

     "Good going, Inuyasha," Shippo said, massaging the massive lump on his head.

     "Aw, shut up," Inuyasha said moodily.

.

.

.

     "Back so soon, Kagome?" her mother said as she walked in the door.

     "Yeah… wasn't much to do there, being my first day and all…"

     "Well, that's okay.  You can just stay a little longer tomorrow."

     "Yeah, guess that's what I'll do."  She'd break the news to her tomorrow.  Omitting certain details.

     Kagome flopped onto the couch, leaning her head back against it.  "Have you seen the paper, Mama?"

     "The paper?"  Her mother gave her an odd look.  "Since when do you read the paper?"

     "Eri said there was a picture of her and the orchestra in there…she wanted me to cut it out for her."

     "Why can't she do it herself?"

     "She doesn't get the paper.  Her aunt can't read English.  Eri moved from Kyoto with her aunt when her parents died, remember?"

     "I don't think you ever told me that…"

     "Oh.  Sorry, I meant to.  Well, she did.  And where's the paper?"

     "I think it's on top of the TV."

     Kagome looked at the paper practically sitting right in front of her face.  "Right…thanks."

She picked it up and waited for a pair of scissors to materialize.  When nothing happened, she sighed and figured she better go find some. 

     She trudged up to her room and rummaged around her desk drawer until she found the sought item.  She laid down on the floor and randomly started flipping through the pages, looking for the local section… when something a certain picture caught her eye.

     Her breath caught in her throat and then she gave a little squeak.  As she read the article, her heart starting sinking fast.  "Oh my god," she murmured, jumping to her feet, and forgetting all about the scissors and the picture of Eri she was supposed to be looking for.

     She ran to her door.  She was going to break the news to her mom.  She didn't care howloud her mother screamed, or howbad she needed those hours.  She was _not _going back to that place ever again.

     As she raced out her door and down the bedroom stairs, Buyo wandered through the open door and settled on her rug next to the newspaper.

     Face up was a picture of a insolent-looking hanyou being dragged out of court, the headlines boldly proclaiming: "TEENAGE HANYOU FOUND GUILTY OF PROSTITUE'S DEATH."

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   As always, tell me what you think!  Tell me the good, the bad, the in-between.    Reviews seriously do inspire me.  Big thanks for all who reviewed last time!  And, of course, a big arigato to my proofreader, Kissabirde.  Till next time, guys!

Oh, and cookies to anyone who can tell me who said the "God is dead" quote.  I by no means believe it, but it is rather historical… (Anne, don't answer this—I KNOW you know the answer.  )


	3. Manipulation

**_Guilty As Charged_**

.

**Chapter Three: **

**MANIPULATION**

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.

.

     "Someone up there _really _doesn't like me."  Inuyasha stooped and picked up what seemed like the thousandth empty coke bottle off the ground.  Amazing how much those private school pricks could litter.  They obviously weren't above throwing their trash across the ten-foot concrete wall with barbed wire.  He would bet on his life that "bottle throwing" was a popular competition on the other side.

     His first day of punishment was not progressing well.  His back was already aching.  Soon he'd be hunched over like an old man.

     He gave a short laugh.  At least he'd gotten rid of that wench—the one that looked amazingly like Kikyo. 

     A growl escaped from his throat.  He did not need the carbon copy of his murdered love hanging around this prison like a persistent specter.  Whatever it took to get rid of her… if she was stubborn and decided to show her face here again, a few more sexual innuendos or threats should scare her off—forever.

     He bit down on his lower lip so hard that his fang pierced it.  He licked away the blood that began to trickle.  _Kikyo._God, he was a sap.  How had he fallen so hard for a stupid woman? 

     And what killed him was that _he _was being held in this trap, with his handles literally tied.  He had to find that bastard that killed her.  There wasn't even a question of that.

     "Dog Turd!"

     He bit down even harder.  The blood really started flowing now.

     "I'm done for tonight," the wolf called from the other side of the yard, "you finish up the rest."

     "What!"

     The damned wolf was actually walking away!

     "Get back here, you weasel!"

     " 'Them's the breaks,'" came the mocking voice.

     He was going to have to get that lip sewn up once he went inside. 

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.

.

    "You're WHAT?!" Mrs. Higurashi shrieked for the second time that week.  "You're _WHAT?!_"

     "Not going to volunteer anymore."

     "First you practically _beg _me to work there, and now you're _quitting_?"

     "I'm not _quitting_—"

     "Yes, you are.  You don't like to work there?  Well, tough, Kagome.  You made your bed, now lie in it."

     "Mom!"

     "No, Kagome.  I will not allow you to not graduate because you slacked off on community service hours."

     "But, Mom, you don't understand—"

     "What's not to understand?  Are you not telling me something?"

     "No, but—"

     "No.  You _will _go back there tomorrow, you _will _get those hours, and you _will _do it with a cheerful attitude."

     "Mom, you don't know what you're asking.  Those kids are dangerous!"

     "Did someone threaten you?" The mom radar suddenly whirred to life.

     "No, Mom—"

     "Did someone try and rape you?"

     "_No_, Mama—"  _Not__ exactly… _

     "Then what's the problem?"

     "Well…"  _Tell her and be locked up in the house forever.  Don't tell her and be sexually harassed by a murderer. _ The first won out.  "This one boy there—he was really annoying, he was mocking me and calling me names—"

     "Kagome.  You don't want to go back because of a boy with an elementary-school mentality?"

     "No!" cried Kagome in exasperation.  "Will you just _listen _to me, Mama?"

     Mrs. Higurashi folded her arms and leaned against the counter.  "Yes."

     "Good." 

     "Well…see—I…"

     Great, now she was unable to express herself adequately. 

     _The newspaper._ "Wait a second, Mom!"  She dashed upstairs, grabbed the paper, and flew back downstairs, panting.  "Look at this."

     Kagome the emotions play across her mother's face watched as she read the article. 

     "This boy was there?" Mrs. Higurashi finally asked.

     "_This _is the boy I was talking about."

     "A murderer," said Mrs. Higurashi flatly.

     Kagome nodded, holding her breath.  "So—do I have to go back?"

     Her mom frowned.  "I would be the happiest woman in the world if you never went back—but where are you going to get those hours?"

     "I'll find something.  Maybe I can stay after school and grade papers for teachers or something."

     "They'll let you do that?"

     "Hopefully…if I beg them hard enough…"

     "Fine.  You don't have to go back."  Mrs. Higurashi laughed.  "No—how's this?  I _forbid _you to go back."

     _Thank God._  "Great, Mom," Kagome said, a big smile spreading across her face.  "Want some cookies?"

.

.

.

     The darkness was closing in. 

     Her eyes narrowed as she picked up her pace.  She knew those thugs were trailing her.  She'd known it since she hopped over the railroad crossing and—literally—ended up on the other side of the tracks.  The foster home was located in the worst part of town.  Most of the kids that lived there had to fight to stay alive, steal to quench their hunger, and work to support themselves.

     And those bastards sitting up in the State Court House thought this was a _better environment _for her brother?

     The footsteps were coming closer.  She flipped her hair over her shoulder and took off running.  The echoing footfalls behind her told her that the goons were pursuing her, but she was counting on the fact that they didn't know the area as well as she did.

     Her camouflage pants and sturdy boots gave her room to run and traction against the slick pavement.  She ducked into an alleyway and felt along the side wall until she found the almost invisible door.  _Where was it?_ 

     "Hey bitch."

     A thousand stars exploded before her eyes as she was hurled into the air and slammed against the wall.  "Think you can outrun us?"

     Although she was still nearly blind, she threw a well-placed kick towards the lower region of her attacker's body.  The man cried out in pain and sunk to his knees.  She immediately dropped to the ground and crawled towards the other wall.  It was too dark to see anything.  Where was the door?

     The man's friend was groping blindly in the dark.  "Where are you, whore?  Only hookers like you'd be wandering around at this time of night.  Where are ya?  No use hiding."

     _Dammit_, she thought, running her hands across the wall again.  It had to be here somewhere.  She'd opened it a million times, escaped through it another trillion. 

     She shrieked as rough hands encircled her waist.  "Gotcha," the man crowded, his hands now fumbling with her shirt.  "Let's get these damn clothes off of ya—"

     She kicked and punched and scratched, trying desperately to free herself.  "Get the hell off of me!"  She tried to kick him in the groin when he was struggling to pull her tee-shirt over her head, but he was quicker than his companion.  "Nice try, girlie."

     "You got 'er, Dick?" his friend asked, having obviously recovered from her kick.

     "An ironic name," she snarled, punching wildly into the darkness.  "It suits you."

     The man swore and pulled harder at her shirt, succeeding in ripping it off.  "That's better."

     Her arms now free, she launched herself at her attacker and managed to wrestle him to the ground.  Grabbing his head, she began to pound it against the pavement, hoping that once she knocked one out, she could deal with the other. 

     Thug Number Two yanked her off his friend and slammed her against the wall.  "Enough of this run-around," he sneered, his putrid breath making her gag.  He tugged at her bra strap.  She recoiled, sickened, again bringing her foot upward.  Her attacker flinched but didn't let go of his hold.

     Panicked now, she clawed at his face.  Many had tried to rape her before, but this was the closet anyone had ever gotten.  With renewed fury, she kicked and scratched harder, nearly breaking down in tears when the man just laughed harder and pressed his body against hers.  "Settle down there, honey, this'll be over quick."

     _"No!" _she screamed, punching with all her might.  "Get OFF me, BASTARD!"  In a last, desperate attempt, she bashed her head against his.  He cried out in pain, his grip loosening a bit.  Seizing her chance, she grabbed his head and swung his body around with all her might, hurling him against the wall.  The man struck the stone and silently slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.

     "HELP!"  She abandoned all pride and frantically ran her hands over the wall, desperately searching for the door.  _"Help!"_      

     The other man was shouting his companion's name, trying to awaken him.  She'd never wished for anyone to be dead, but now prayed with all her heart that she had killed him.

     She was suddenly thrown backwards onto the wall again, but this time not from her attackers.  A blinding light was shining in her face. 

     "Who's out there?" a voice demanded.

     "CHARLIE!" she screamed, running towards the light.  "Charlie, it's me, it's me!  Help, I—"  A body slammed into her once again, knocking her to the ground. 

     "Oh no you don't," the man growled, his face inches from hers.  "You're not getting away after what you did—"

     A bullet whizzed by his ear, nearly searing it off.  He gave a cry and tumbled backwards, his hand patting the side of his head, making sure the appendage was still attached.

     "Come near that lady again," the voice from the doorway said calmly, "and I promise you that next time I won't miss."

     "Son of a—" The man charged towards the gun holder, only to throw himself to the ground a minute later as another bullet zinged past him.

     "Sango."  The man named Charlie nodded to her.  "Come here.  Don't you worry 'bout this man, if he even moves a muscle, this bullet's goin' right through his head."

     She slowly picked herself up off the ground and moved towards the doorway, giving wide birth to the crouched man.  Her attacker growled as she passed him, and she jumped into the doorway.  Charlie gave the man one last glare and slammed the door shut, bolting it behind him.

     Sango's breath escaped her and she slumped against the closed door.  "Oh my…god…"

     "Miss Sango, what would your father say?" Charlie said, frowning.  He slammed the gun into his palm over and over.  "What are you doing out this late at night, anyhow?"

     "Same thing I do every Saturday night," she retorted, closing her eyes.  "Bastards."

     "Were you comin' or goin'?"

     "Coming.  Work ran late."

     "Miss Sango, your daddy would skin me alive if I didn't send you home this very minute."

     "Yeah, well, Daddy's not here now, is he?"  She glared at Charlie.  "I have to go see him.  I _promised _him.  You can't stop me."

     "Your father," gritted Charlie, running a hand through his unruly grey hair, "entrusted Kohaku's and your safety to me.  What would he say if I let something terrible happen to you?"

     "If he entrusted our safety to you," she said, "then why didn't he specify it in his will?  Why, if it was so important to him?"

     "He didn't get a chance," Charlie said quietly.  "Sango—how many times has this happened?"

     "What, me being stalked?" she said flatly.

     "Yes."

     "At least once a week.  Usually I can lose them, or, if they're persistent, fight them off."  She drew in a shuddering breath.  "This is the first time they've gotten so—so close…"

     "It was the same guys?" Charlie's voice sharpened.

     "I think so.  I never really got a good look at them…Charlie—" Sango looked up into his honest, grey eyes that matched his hair—"did I—kill…that man?"

     "Don't matter if you did.  It was out of self-defense.  'Sides I doubt that other attacker can recognize you if he wanted to."

     "Right," she said quietly.  She rested her head on her knees for a minute, then looked up with a calm face.  "Find me a shirt somewhere.  I can't go visiting Kohaku like this."

.

.

     "Morning, Kagome!"

     "Hiya, Kag!"

     "Kagome!  Long time no see!  How was juvy?"

     "Fascinating," she replied dryly, smiling at Eri.  "But I'm not going back."

     "What?" cried Eri.  "Kagome, you _finally _find a place to get those hours in, and now you're quitting?"

     "Pretty much."

     "I don't know what's gotten into you lately," she muttered.  "So what are you going to do now?"

     "Beg the Bio teacher to let me grade papers."

     "Good luck."

     Yuka was running towards them, pushing people aside.  "Kagome, how was juvy?"

     Kagome groaned.  She had a feeling this was going to be the question of the day…

.

.

     "Guys, look at this!"  Ayumi threw that day's newspaper on the table and pulled out a chair.  "This world's gone crazy, man."

     Her three friends momentarily paused their gabbing over their lunches to stare at her.  The rest of the lunchroom was pulsing with noise and the clatter of utensils, but their section of the long, cafeteria-style table was silent.

     "Did Ayumi just say 'man'?" Yuka confirmed.

     "Yup," Kagome said.

     "You going punk, Ayumi?" Eri asked.  She held a hand to Ayumi's forehead.  "Yeah, I think it feels a little hot."

     "Stuff it."  Ayumi flipped open the newspaper to the front page and shoved it in front of Eri's nose.  "Take a look at this article and see what kind of world we're gonna have to raise our kids in."

     Yuka and Kagome exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes.  Ayumi was the most preppy and most sheltered out of their group—and not to mention the smartest.  She was the exact definition of a private school girl.

     "Lovely," Eri proclaimed, passing the paper to Yuka to examine.  "Why is it always the hot ones that are the troublemakers?"

     "He's demon, that's why," Yuka said.  "All demons are troublemakers.  If you ask me, we should put a limit on our immigration quotas for non-humans."

     "Yuka," Ayumi chastised, frowning a bit.  "That was really racist."

     "Well, geez, Ayu, open your eyes.  Look at the criminal stats: _fifty percent _of all crimes are committed by demons.  They're an irrational, hot-headed race."

     "Ohh, fifty percent.  And guess what occupies the _other _fifty percent?" Kagome gasped in mock horror.  "Humans!  Dear me, that's the same number!"

     "What's up with you today, Kagome?" Yuka said.  "You're so sarcastic."

     "Sorry.  Just in a bad mood, I guess."  She took the paper that Yuka handed to her and froze.  "Oh, him?"

     Guess whose picture was pasted across the front page?

     "You've heard of him?" Ayumi asked.  "He allegedly murdered this teenage prostitute named Kikyo."

     "Allegedly?" Eri said.  "He was found guilty."

     "By circumstantial evidence," corrected Ayumi.  "Bankotsu Shichinintai was the prosecutor and really pushed for time in juvy."

     "So he wasn't really guilty?" Kagome asked.

     Ayumi shrugged.  "He probably was.  Look at his background: fights at school, a few arson fires, consorting with druggies, may have even sold some weed himself…"

     _Wonderful.__  That definitely clinches the matter: there is no way in hell I'm going back there_.

     "Although," added Ayumi, "he claimed to have loved Kikyo."

     "So?" Yuka said, her mouth full of sandwich.  "Crazy people have murdered for love.  Remember that case a few years ago?  This man killed his lover because he was going to die of cancer; he didn't want to die and leave her behind, grieving without him.  So he killed her."

     "That's a little conceited," Eri said.  "She would have gotten over him eventually."

     Kagome rubbed her temples.  She and her friends had made a game of having debates during lunch over the years.  Their diverse backgrounds allowed them to get all different views: Ayumi was the only child of a lawyer, Jewish, and extremely smart; Yuka was from a family of six kids and was devoutly Catholic; Eri lived with her grandmother, was Buddhist, and extremely liberal.  Kagome—the offspring of a Buddhist and a Protestant—claimed no religion, lived with her mother, grandfather, and brother, and considered herself a moderate conservative.

     Normally, by now Kagome would be in the thick of the debate, but today, and with this particular topic…

     "Okay, new topic, guys," Kagome said, swiping a carrot stick from Ayumi's container.  "This one's getting old."

     Three surprised faces turned to stare at her. 

     "Kagome, what is _up _with you today?" Yuka asked, sounding a bit annoyed.

     "I don't want to talk about juvy or criminals or anything like that.  Besides, that Inuyasha guy is an asshole."

     "Well, yeah, he murdered his girlfriend—" Eri started.

     "Wait."  Yuka's eyes narrowed.  She glanced at the newspaper, then at Kagome, and back at the newspaper again.  "You met him yesterday, didn't you?"

     "Huh?" Eri and Ayumi exclaimed together.

     "At juvy.  You met this Inuyasha guy, he gave you crap for looking like his murdered lover, and then you stormed out of the place and swore you'd never return."

     Yuka was so scary when she was right…

     "Yeah, pretty much," Kagome mumbled, twirling the carrot stick through her fingers.  "But—hey, how do you know I look like his girlfriend?"

     Yuka shoved the paper in front of her face.  There, right next to the picture of a scowling Inuyasha was the prostitute, Kikyo. 

     "She doesn't look anything like me!" Kagome said.  "Look at her—she's gorgeous!"

     "You _do _bear a resemblance, now that I think about it," Eri said, stealing the paper from Yuka.  "God, that's freaky.  You're a prostitute's double, Kagome!"

     "Shut up!" whispered Kagome frantically, as most of the conversation around them died down.  "This is how _rumors _get started, Eri!"

     "Oh…oops.  Sorry."

     "That is weird, though," Ayumi said.  "She looks like your long-lost twin or something."

     Yuka and Eri turned calculating eyes on Kagome.

     "No, guys, this is not the parent trap—my parents did not have twins and separate us at birth."

     "But Kagome," Eri said, "how do you know?  You haven't seen your dad in ten years.  And she was your age too!"

     Kagome sighed and dropped her head into her palm.  "This is not Hollywood, guys.  Be serious.  It's just some freaky coincidence.  Though that does explain why he was so callous."

     Her friends sighed too. 

     "I guess you're right," said Yuka in disappointment.  "Thought wouldn't that have made a cool story?  Your twin is murdered by the man who loved her, you meet him in juvy, and then he eventually falls in love with you…hmm…"

     The calculating looks reappeared.

     "Don't—get—any—ideas," Kagome barked.  "This is not a romance novel.  This guy is a _murderer_.  Shall I repeat it?  A _mur-der-er__._  This is _not_ a movie, Kikyo is _not_ my twin, and he will _not_ fall in love with me!"

     Kagome didn't realize she was shouting until the whole table around her fell silent.  "Eh heh…hi?"

     When the conversations around her finally resumed, Yuka couldn't resist asking, "Could I use this in a story?  Please?  I'll change the names and everything."

     "Sure," Kagome said, folding her arms on the table and dropping her head into them.  "Why am I friends with you guys again?"

     Ayumi patted her back.  "Because no one else will tolerate our weirdness."

     "_Your _weirdness," Eri and Yuka mumbled simultaneously.

     "Want me to come with you to talk to the bio teacher after school?" Eri offered.

     "Yeah, whatever," Kagome said.  "As long as I don't hear the name 'Inuyasha' mentioned ever again."

.

.

     "Inuyasha!"   

     "Bug off, Shippo."  Inuyasha collapsed onto his cot (there was absolutely no bounce in it—he fell hard as a rock) and closed his eyes.  "I am going to kill that wolf shit tomorrow.  Please tell me it's tackle football in P.E."

     "Actually, I think field hockey's scheduled."

     "Good enough.  Those sticks could probably break bones."

     "Inuyasha—"

     "Who does that wimpy Peter Pan eared guy think he is?"

     "_Inuyasha—_"

     "Dammit," he cursed under his breath.

     "Inuyasha—do you think that girl will come back?"

     "Hn?  What girl?"  _Note to self: add Koga on "to kill list" right under Bankotsu and Kikyo's murderer._

     "The one that looked like Kikyo."

     "That bitch?" he snorted.  "I _hope _she never comes ba—"  His eyes flew open.  "What did you say?"

     "What?  'Do you think that girl is—'"

     Inuyasha was off his bed and holding Shippo against the wall by the neck in seconds.  "No, the name.  What name did you say?"

     "Kikyo?"

     "Where did you hear that, you little prick?" he snarled.

     "I, unlike some uneducated boors, actually read the newspaper," Shippo said defensively.  "They stock the daily papers in the classroom—or did you not notice, being your usual unobservant self?"

     "Newspapers?  What has that got to—"  The wheels in his head suddenly clicked together and whirled to life.  "Don't tell me those damn reporters _wrote _something about the case."

     "Hoo, aren't we clever."

     Inuyasha swore.  "How much do you know?"

     "Everything that was stated in court.  Did you really love her, Inuyasha?  Or was that just a desperate plea to get you out of juvy?"

     "None of your damn business!"  Inuyasha threw the kit against the wall.  _God, the whole city probably knows about me and Kikyo now.  Shit.  _

     "Is that why you were so mean to Kagome?"

     "Who?"  _The minute I get out of this freakin' jail, I am going to hunt someone down._

     "The girl that looked like Kikyo.  Were you acting like a bastard just because the two had a resemblance?"

     "No.  She was sent here to torture me; probably by Bankotsu.  Maybe by the pimp.  He lost one of his best hookers, after all."

     "That's not Kagome's fault," scolded Shippo.  "When she comes back, you should apologize."

     "Forget it, kid.  She's not coming back."  He smirked a bit.  "I made sure of that."

.

.

     The stone on the windowpane sounded like a boulder crashing through a glassblower shop.  Sango shifted her weight, praying that no one besides her brother would hear it.  A face appeared at the window, and then disappeared as suddenly as it came.  She breathed a sigh of relief and snuck around to the back door of the house to wait.

     Kohaku emerged a few minutes later.  "Hey, Sis," he said, smiling.

     Sango's heart squeezed.  It was probably the only time he smiled all week.  "Hey, squirt, how ya doin'?"

     He shrugged.  "Not too bad.  I made a friend."

     "Really?" Sango tried not to sound too suspicious.  The last time he "made a friend" the kid had robbed him of all his chores money and used him as a scapegoat for all his problems.

     "Yeah.  This one seems okay.  Her name's Rin."

     "_Her_?  She's a girl?"

     "Yeah.   She definitely can't beat me up, so I think I'm safe there."  He cracked her a grin.

     A joke.  He'd actually made a joke.  Sango ruffled his hair.  "Don't you worry, squirt, I'll get you outta here."

     "Okay."

     She could tell he was humoring her.  "Kohaku," she said, her voice taking on a warning tone, "I mean it.  I don't make promises lightly."

     "I know.  Just…can we take Rin with us?  Her parents," his voice dropped to a whisper, "were killed by wolf demons.  They were trying to rob her house.  I heard her cry at night.  I don't like it when she's sad."

     "Oh, Kohaku."  She pulled him into a tight embrace.  "I'm sorry this all had to happen.  I'm sorry they took you away from me.  Those bastards don't even care."

     "It's okay, sis.  I've been thinking…maybe I was sent here for a reason.  Maybe I was sent here to be a friend to Rin."

     "Kohaku.  That's a very nice thought, and I'm sure Rin appreciates it, but there was no _reason _you were sent to this stupid foster family house except that the State Department was loose a few screws that day.  You shouldn't have been sent here!  You didn't deserve to be sentenced to this—this hell where the mother doesn't even care about you, and the father's a drunk, and kids beat up on you…"

     She was crying now.  Kohaku pulled her into his arms.  Dammit, she was supposed to be the big sister!  She was supposed to be strong, the one to comfort her hurting little brother…

     "It's okay, sis," he whispered, patting her back.  "It's okay."

     _No, it's not okay!  It's not, it's not…_

     A light shown through one of the windows.  Kohaku tensed and abruptly pulled away.  "I have to go," he whispered urgently.  "Mother dearest is up and probably satisfying a midnight craving.  I have to get back in bed before she checks."

     "Oh no…"  That was all she got?  She waits for a week to see her brother, not knowing how he's faring, not knowing if he's still _alive_, almost gets raped, and _this _was all she got?  A measly five minutes?  Ten, at most?

     "Sorry, Sango," he said, scuffing his shoe in the dirt.

     "D-don't apologize," she sniffled, wiping her nose on her shirt.  "C'mere, you.  Gimme a hug and then go pull the wool over that fat lady's eyes."

     He smiled and embraced her once again.  "Till next week."  Then he ran inside, not even making a whisper in the night air.

     Sango watched him leave, the tears still flowing down her face.

     It wasn't fair. 

     It just wasn't fair.

     Wasn't it enough that her mother died of breast cancer?  Wasn't it enough that her father had to be a bartender?  Wasn't it enough that he tried to damn hard not to touch a drop, and then he ended being shot while trying to break up a fight?

     She had been so heartbroken…her birthday had been the day before.  She had turned eighteen.  _"I'm an adult now, Dad," she teased.  "You have to treat me with a little more respect now."_  She had hoped that they would allow her to raise Kohaku, since she was technically an adult…

     But they had shot down that dream as well.  _Since you are an adult, we will allow you to take care of yourself.  But the boy… he needs guidance.  A mere 18-year-old cannot give him such.  This is for the best, Miss Tayija.  We only want the best for you and your brother._

     "Bullshit," she whispered fiercely.  "How could they say that?  How could they…"

     She wasn't sure how long she sat there, crying her heart out.  But when she finally opened her eyes, the darkness was gone, replaced by light.

     She had spent the night outside the foster house that Kohaku had been placed in.

     A quick look at her watch told her that she was over an hour late for school.  And she was a good forty-five minutes away from the school.

     Cold, clammy hands clamped over her mouth.  Hard.

     "You thought you got away, didn't ya?"  Putrid breath filled her nostrils once again.  "Nice try, honey.  This time—this time you're not gonna get away."

     Oh…_damn_ it…

.

.

     "Kagome…?  Kagome, where are you going?  I thought we were going to see the bio teacher together!"

     "I was called to the office," came the distant reply.  "I'll call you tonight, Eri!"

     "Uh…okay!" the girl with the head-band shouted after her.  She shook her head and walked outside to where Ayumi and Yuka were waiting for her. 

     Kagome burst into the office, nearly knocking over the old, overweight secretary.  Kagome grinned at the lady, who huffed and locked the doors with her nose in the air.  The school secretary was notorious for her dislike of students; exactly five minutes after school let out, she locked the doors to the office with a special key that she kept around her waist. 

     "Is Principal Johnston in?" Kagome asked the old lady sweetly.

     "In the office," the old hag grunted.  "Help yourself."

     "Thank you!" 

     Kagome moved towards the rear of the office, tapping softly on the door marked "PRINCIPAL."

     "It's open!" a voice called from inside.

     Pushing the door open slowly, Kagome said, "Miss?  You called for me?"

     "Yes; please come in, Miss Higurashi."  Kagome stepped in the room, facing the platinum blonde forty-something-year-old woman.  Mrs. Johnston nodded at a folding chair near her desk.  "Have a seat."

     Kagome sat.  "Is this about community service?"  Earlier in the day, she had inquired about other opportunities.

     "Actually, yes it is."  Mrs. Johnston pushed a piled of papers to the side and folded her hands on her desk.  "Now, Miss Higurashi…you need hours to graduate, do you not?"

     "Yes, ma'am."

     "If I have my information correct, you went to the juvenile reform center previously?"

     "Yes, ma'am—but it wasn't…what I expected it to be.  Do you have any other options?"

     The Principal smiled slightly.  "Kagome, let me tell you something.  Those children in the center are no different than you: just underprivileged.  Because of certain circumstances, or varying causes that would break your heart to hear about, they landed in that place."  She looked Kagome straight in the eye.  "Did you run because you were afraid?"

     "Afraid?" stuttered Kagome.  "Well—not _exactly_…"

     "Often," the woman nodded, "these kids are rude and disrespectful to outsides, merely because you are exactly their age, exactly like them—only _you _are not in a cage.  Wouldn't you be a little resentful?"

     "Well—yes, but that isn't—"

     "Kagome, I would like you to try again.  Please.  For the kids' sake and for yours.  And you have no idea how good that looks for our school—students from the Academy going out into the world to help the less fortunate."

     Kagome couldn't believe what she was hearing.  This woman was trying to send her back into that wretched place for the sake of the _school?_  "Mrs. Johnston—you don't understand.  I was threatened!  I—you have heard of Inuyasha Takahashi?"

     The woman didn't even blink.  "I have."

     "He was there.  And not only did he verbally ridicule me, but he—uh—sorta threw himself on me and—and _threatened_ me…"

     God, she sounded like an idiot!  Out loud, her reason sounded kind of stupid.  "It's—I can't put it into words."

     Mrs. Johnston nodded serenely.  "I know it was a culture shock, but I really would appreciate it if you returned and tried again, Kagome.  Would you consider that, please?  For the sake of the school?"

     This lady was a freakin' manipulator!

     "But—but—I—"

     "It's all settled then."  Mrs. Johnston pulled her papers back in front of her and picked up a pen.  "I assume you'll be putting in another two hours today?"

     Kagome's jaw was slack.  "Mrs. Johnston, really, I understand what you're asking, but—"

     "But you would feel awkward showing up without alerting someone?"  The platinum blonde hair bobbed up and down as she nodded her head.  "I understand completely.  I'll give them a call and let them know you're coming."  She picked up the phone and dialed a number, waiting for someone to pick up.  "Don't you worry about a thing, dear."

     Kagome's back was as stiff as a poker.  The nerve of this woman!  Well, no one told _Kagome _what to do.  She just wouldn't show up.  She was graduating soon—what could the school do to her?

     Screw the school's reputation.

     As Kagome exited the office, she heard Mrs. Johnston's conversation.  _"Hello, Rick?  Yes…yes, it's Cherie.  Yes, hello.  I have a student that's going to be coming this afternoon…yes, Kagome Higurashi.  Yes, yes she did.  Expecting her?...Great!...Thanks so much…oh the kids?  They're doing well…" _

     Kagome slammed the door shut, blatantly ignoring the hostile stare of the secretary.  She cursed under her breath as she stormed out of the office. 

     She was _not _going back.

.

.

.

     The moonlight filtered gently though the bars of the cell window.  Shippo snored lightly, mumbling random words in his sleep.  Inuyasha, however, was tossing and turning. 

     _"Kikyo—it's me."  He knocked on Door #12, just like always.  _

_     "Come on in."  She knew it was him.  _

_     He pushed open the door and shut it with his foot.  "Hey, beautiful."_

_     "Hi, yourself."  She was facing the window, reading a book.  She was still a little shy._

_     Inuyasha smiled and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.  "How ya doin'?"_

_     She turned, smiling at him.  "I'm fine.  And you, Inuyasha?  How are you doing?"_

_     He froze in horror, staring at the growing red stain on her white satin nightgown.  Her face was smiling, and her tone was happy, but…  "Kikyo!  What happened?"_

_     "What do you mean?"_

_     He gave a startled cry and scrambled backwards.  This wasn't Kikyo!  It looked like her—it _sounded_ like her—but her face was different!_

_     Then something clicked in his head.  "Wait—it's you!  That stupid girl that came to visit me!"_

_     "Inuyasha?" she sounded hurt._

_     Her eyes were blue!  Kikyo's eyes were grey!  What was going on?!_

_     "Inuyasha, I…"  she collapsed on the floor, a red pool of blood growing around her.  Terrified, Inuyasha ran to the door, and flung it open.  He gave a strangled cry as the corpse of Kikyo fell on him.  "The hell—?!"_

_     Two policemen burst into the room and held him at gunpoint.  "You're under arrest for the murder of Kikyo Ito and Kagome Higurashi."_

_     "Huh?"  He looked down and found a bloody knife in his hand.  "W-wait!  No, you've got the wrong guy!  I don't even _know _her…"  _

_     He was still screaming as they dragged him off to juvy._

::

     Inuyasha sat up so fast that dark spots filled his vision for a moment.  He brushed his bangs off his forehead.  He was covered in sweat.  _A dream… _

     He fell back down on his rock-hard cot.  _Gods, she plagues me even in my sleep…Kikyo…_

     He kicked the wall, achieving nothing but a bruised toe.  _Why was that other bitch in my dream?  Damn, even Kikyo's double tries to torture me.  _

     Rolling on his side, he pressed his ears flat against his head and squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the tightness in his chest.  Now he was even questioning his own innocence.  What if he had killed her when he was sleepwalking or something?

     "Goddammit," he muttered, kicking the wall again.  "It was a dream, you loser.  A f-ing dream."

     The moonlight quivered and quavered around the bars.  He squeezed his eyes tighter.  "A dream…just a dream…"

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     At the same time, in the hallway on the other side of the building, a cell door squeaked open and clanged shut.  The walls reverberated not with the clashing sound, but with the obscenities flowing out of a girl's mouth. 

     "Damn you!"  The scream echoed off the walls.  "You can't do this!  It was freakin' _self-defense!_  Come back here, you bastards…!"

     She collapsed into a heap of tears.  Letting her head fall back against the wall, she whispered brokenly, "It was just self-defense…"

     Her eyes grew heavy from shear exhaustion.  "Self-defense…I'm…so sorry, Kohaku…"

::

::

     Yay, chapter three out, just for you!  I leave for Europe in exactly five hours!  Though I have to be at the airport in one-and-a-half… Won't be back for two weeks, but hey, at least I got this chappie out!  o0  Cookies to KharmaSmack for getting the Nietzsche quote!  And THANK YOU to all who reviewed!  Reviews really do inspire me!    (hint hint)

     As always, please tell me what you thought!  Good, bad, in-between!!

     Push that little button down here…

     Ja ne!


	4. Artificial Light

**_Guilty As Charged _******

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**Chapter Four:**

**ARTIFICIAL LIGHT **

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Tiny grey drops of water pelted down from the sky in an unending downpour. Kagome wiped her dripping bangs off her forehead. Her hair was plastered to her scalp. How fitting that it would rain the one day she decided to walk home.

She had walked into the student parking lot after school per usual, nearly bent over double with the weight of her backpack, and noticed a figure standing next to her car. Expecting it to be Yuka or someone hoping to bum a ride off of her, she didn't slow her pace until she recognized the woman to be Principal Johnston.

Standing watch to make sure Kagome drove her car to juvy. The woman probably even planned to ride along with her.

"Like hell," Kagome ground out, in one of her rare moments of cursing. She turned on her heel and stormed off to the sidewalk. She'd _walk _home today.

A normal walk home took half an hour. A walk home in the rain when she couldn't even see three feet ahead of her took over an hour. She wondered if her mom was home yet. If she was, Kagome was totally screwed.

She shivered, cold, wet, and miserable. But at least she was away from that half-demon murderer named Inuyasha. She gave a short laugh. And her friends were fantasizing that they'd fall in _love_?

A light suddenly shone through the grey sheet of water. Kagome squinted into the downpour and realized it was the light shining out a car door. She gave it a curious glance, and then continued on her way. A person climbed out of the car, the rain splashing beneath their feet. The person was yelling something. "Flowing!"

_Flowing? _Thought Kagome.

"Flowing!" the person shouted again. "Flow in May!"

What the heck?

She felt a hand on her shoulder and Kagome screamed, whirling around. "Get off me!" She wrenched herself out of the person's grasp, but the person only grabbed her again.

"_Kagome_!"

Kagome only struggled harder.

"Kagome!" the voice said again. "It's me—Takeda!"

_Miroku?_

Confused, Kagome stopped fighting and looked at the face of the person standing next to her in the downpour. Sure enough, a dripping Miroku Takamura was standing there, using his hand to shield his eyes from the rain. What did the captain of the wrestling team want with her?

He must have read the question on her face, because he presently explained, "Principal Johnston sent me."

"Did she?" Kagome said icily. "Whatever for?"

"She was worried that you'd get lost in this damned hurricane, being on foot and all." He caught her look and laughed a bit. "Okay, she didn't use those exact words, but you get the idea."

"She was _worried_?"

"Is that so surprising? How would it look if one of her top students was killed on the way home from school because she had been scared away by the principal?"

Kagome considered. Put that way…

"Or maybe she was just concerned for your well-being." Miroku winked. "Contrary to popular thought, she's not an evil witch."

"Heh."

"Seriously. She may be overbearing and manically obsessive with her school, but she does care about her students."

"Right."

Miroku shook his wet bangs out of his face in a rather dog-like manner. "Look, why don't we discuss with all in the car? I could argue with you for hours, but I'd rather do it in a dry area."

"What does it matter? We're wet already."

"And getting wetter. Do you _want _to die of pneumonia?"

"Maybe I have a death wish?"

Miroku laughed, flashing her that killer smile that most girls swooned over. "You, Higurashi? A death wish? That's the funniest thing I've heard all week. I wish Lady Kaede could have heard you say that. She'd do a victory dance."

Kagome gave him a puzzled look. "Who?"

"Lady Kaede: the secretary whom you constantly try to thwart. The woman who would just as well see all the students die in a phenomenal catastrophe."

"You mean Mrs. Wharton?"

"That's her name, huh. We all just called her Lady Kaede—like that old hag in the poem from the Japanese feudal era."

Kagome shook her head.

Miroku used that brief moment when she let her guard down to steer her toward his car and shove her in the passenger's seat. He ran around to the driver's side, threw himself onto the seat, and slammed the door closed. "Whew!"

Kagome giggled at his appearance. He was almost as wet as she, his clothes plastered to his frame, and his hair had fallen out of his customary ponytail, the wet strands hanging limply around his face.

He sensed the object of her amusement cracked her a smile, leaning onto the steering wheel of his car. "So, Higurashi. Care to tell me why you decided to walk rather than drive home today?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I thought you already knew."

"I know it has something to do with Principal Johnston and community service—but I'm in the dark as to why you have this community service phobia. I would have thought a girl like you would enjoy helping people."

"'A girl like me' huh?" she said scathingly. "What would you know about me? You know what I absolutely hate, Miroku Takeda? People who make judgments because they _think _they know a person's _type_. Just because I'm quiet and studious, I'm a good person, right? Yeah? Well what if I'm a drug pusher? What would you say to that?"

Miroku didn't even flinch at her sudden outburst. He just regarded her calmly. Kagome tried to slow her breathing down. What had made her explode like that? She wasn't even sure where the words came from…but once they left her mouth she felt like a total hypocrite.

"My opinion of you wouldn't change in the least," he told her truthfully. "Drug pushers can be good people."

"Have you ever _met _a drug pusher?" she snapped.

"Sure. One of my friends. Another one is a pothead. Idiot that he is, he's addicted to the crap now. He's still a good person—a little confused, but he has a pure heart."

"Even though he's ruining other people's lives?"

"Higurashi. What's this all about? You're contradicting yourself?"

She set her eyes downcast. "I'm…confused."

"About what?"

She looked up into his purple-blue eyes that all her friends lost their voices over. She was a little confused about the guy she was presently spilling her heart out to—she'd heard that he was a perverted lecher who felt girls up at the drop of a hat, a player, a "potty-mouth" (as Ayumi called him), and generally a "bad boy" that "good girls" such as herself would not want to associate with. What was with this intellectual conversation?

"I don' t know. Life. I went to juvy to help out, and there was this guy there—oh, you probably know him—" she laughed a little at the look on Miroku's face—"rather, know _of _him. Inuyasha Takahashi; the guy that's been all over the news."

"And?"

"I didn't know who he was at the time, and when I went to clean his cell, he was really rude, and somehow ended up on top of me…"

Miroku's eyebrows flew upward. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing happened, he just scared the shit out of me." She glared at Miroku's strangled-laugh-turned-sneeze. "What?"

He was still trying to cover chuckles. "I wish your mother could have heard you just now."

"She knows I cuss…occasionally. I've heard her too. Don't go into the kitchen during Thanksgiving or Christmas, the words are hotter than the flames that engulf the charred turkey."

Miroku was really having a hard time composing himself now. "You really aren't what I expected you to be."

"Well, that goes both ways. I heard you were a hopeless pervert and an insensitive hottie. You haven't even groped me yet."

Miroku's infamous grin returned. "That's a problem easily solved…"

She swatted his hand out of the way. "I wasn't _asking _to be, moron!"

"Sure sounded that way to me."

"It would," she muttered, shoving herself onto the door, as far away from Takeda as possible.

He sighed. "I promise to behave myself."

"Yeah, how many girls heard that before they were raped?"

Miroku gave her an indignant look. "What was it you were saying about judging people?"

"Actions speak louder than words," she snapped back.

"For your information, I am a virgin."

Kagome gave him a hard look.

He smiled innocently. "What?"

"Why do I get the feeling you're using that word on extreme technicalities?"

His smile only grew. "You're quicker than I thought, Higurashi. It's too bad we didn't know each other better these past years."

"Yeah. Shame." She was practically smashed against the window.

He settled himself against the drivers door so that he and Kagome were facing each other. "Anyhow, let's continue the story."

"The…story?" Kagome struggled to find her train of thought.

"You were saying that Inuyasha was rude to you and ended up on top of you…"

"Oh. Right. Well, he wasn't just rude, he was almost threatening. So when he fell on top of me, I absolutely freaked and stormed out of the place. And then yesterday at lunch, Yuka, Ayumi, and Eri were talking about him because they'd seen him in the newspaper…and then I found out that I'm the splitting image of his murdered lover. The prostitute."

"Kikyo Ito?" Miroku said in surprise, looking at her more carefully. "I hadn't noticed before, but now that you mention it… you actually do bear a resemblance."

"Yeah. See why I'm afraid to go back? I obviously remind him of Kikyo…and he had no trouble murdering her. He would have even lesstrouble killing _me_, someone who he has absolutely no connections or attachment to."

"Kagome, I highly doubt he would be able to do you mortal harm in the center. For one, there are guards roaming around the hallways day and night. And two, if he _did _somehow manage to harm you, he would be put in confinement faster than you could say 'help.'"

Kagome sent him a dubious look. "How do you know that?"

Miroku smiled. "I hear a lot. Recall the crowd I hang out with."

"Oh." She sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest. "So, anyway, Principal Johnston is practically forcing me to go back and get my hours in. But not because she's worried about me—she thinks it would be a great reflection on the _school_ if I worked there. Personally, I think my working there would do more damage than harm. All those uppity parents will be saying, 'dear me, they send their children into that awful place? How perfectly revolting.'" __

Miroku gave her a sideways smile. "Don't forget that you would be classified into one of those uppity families, Miss Higurashi. Your family is hardly the proletariat."

"What are you implying?" she said in annoyance.

"Nothing, nothing."

She sighed again. "So what do you think I should do?"

"You're asking _my _opinion? I'm just the dumb groping jock, remember?"

"_Takeda_…"

"Honestly, Higurashi, you don't even know me. Well. I mean, sure, we've been in each other's classes for four years now, but…"

"You're here. You're available. I need help. Talk."

He smiled charmingly. "As you wish."

Kagome cringed. "I have heard that line _way _too many times."

"What, you don't like _The Princess Bride_?"

"Loathe it."

Miroku gasped in mock shock and slumped against the car door. "Kagome! That is an offense against humanity! How can you _not _like that movie?"

"I presume it is one of your favorites."

"I have it memorized."

She arched a brow. "Really now."

"'_Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the country of __Florin__. Her favorite pastimes were riding her horse and tormenting the farm boy that worked there. His name was Wesley. But she never called him that. Isn't that a wonderful beginning?'_"

"God…I think that was the scariest thing I have ever witnessed."

"Do you still want my opinion?"

"Now that I know you're _loco_, I'm not so sure."

"Well, I'll tell you anyway. I think you should go back."

"You and the rest of the world!" Great. Just great. Even Miroku was against her.

"Hear me out. I see no reason why you shouldn't return. One, you need hours desperately. Two, just avoid Inuyasha the next time you go. They can't _force _you to clean his cell, or read him bedtime stories, or whatever the hell they have you do there. Three, it will spare you the wrath of Johnston—and all the red tape that follows."

Kagome was silent for a minute. The guy actually had a point. Several good points, actually. Who would have thought he'd turn out to be so smart?

"You know, Takeda, those are the most logical words that have ever left your mouth."

He smirked. "You don't know me well enough." He cracked his head. "Now. How bout I give you a lift over to the center? That sound good to you?"

She returned the smirk. _I don't know you well enough?_ She moved her hand so it covered the door handle. "A little lesson for you, Miroku: just because I ask for and consider advice…doesn't mean I have to accept it."

She was getting fed up with this whole situation. She just wanted to go home and _sleep_ and forget about Principal Johnston, Inuyasha, and juvy in general.

Which is why a moment later, want overpowered reason, and she opened the car door and stepped out into the rain. She smirked to herself as she heard Miroku yelling at her from inside the automobile. "Thanks for everything, Takeda!"

_"Kagome!" _

She slammed the car door and resumed her walk. She'd gone no more than five paces before she was cut off by a scowling Miroku. "You know," he said, "that if I die of hypothermia, I'm blaming you?"

"So I can be convicted of murder and sent to juvy to share a cell with Inuyasha?"

Miroku ran a hand over his face. "Lord, woman, do you never give up?"

"Nah…"

"Fine. Out of good conscience, I will drive you home. Happy?"

"Very. It's not safe for a young, unprotected girl to walk home by herself."

"Agreed." He linked his arm through hers and led her back to the car.

She stopped short, jerking Miroku back.

"What now?"

"No funny stuff, Takeda." She sent him her most chilling death glare. "If by some supernatural force we 'magically appear' in the parking lot of the juvenile delinquent center, I promise I will tell the entire school that we are dating."

Miroku raised and eyebrow and gave her a lazy grin. "And this is supposed to threaten me how?"

"I will 'dump' you the next day."

His grin disappeared.

"_And _tell them that you're a horrendous kisser."

He shuddered and opened the door of the car for her. "Ladies first."

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"Yes, Sango?" the receptionist said. "What do you is it you want?"

"I would like to speak with the director."

"Have a seat, please. This will take just a moment."

"Thank you."

Sango sat down in her usual place—the last metal folding chair in the row, right next to the door, just like she always did. It was almost like she and the receptionist were playing a game—reciting the same words back and forth to each other with similar cordiality, although they both held dislike for the other.

Sango thought the woman was unhelpful and overly blunt; she was sure the woman thought Sango was an annoying, persistent kid.

Sango jiggled her foot, staring at the fraying hems of her jeans. They didn't make inmates wear ugly orange jumpsuits like they did in jail, but they also didn't give them a change of clothes. She'd been in these clothes for three days now—and the shirt wasn't even hers: it was an old rag Charlie had found in the Lost and Found box. She didn't really want to know how a woman's shirt had gotten into the Lost and Found box, but she'd been in a fix at the time.

Her face darkened at the turn of her thoughts, and she stubbornly shoved them out of her mind. _Don't think of them…think of the impending task at hand…_ She frowned slightly. That sounded like something out of a movie or book…where had she heard that before? She spent the next five minutes trying to figure it out, and by then the receptionist had returned.

"The Director will see you now."

"Thank you." Sango stood and walked through the doorway, nodding her thanks to the receptionist, who held the door open. She entered the hallway and knocked on the fifth door.

"Come in," the voice called.

Sango pushed open the door and shut it with a resolute click. "I'm back."

"Ah, Miss Taijiya. Have a seat, please."

"I'd rather stand, thanks." Anything to annoy the man.

"Now, what brings you here today?"

_Maybe the same thing that's brought me here seven times the past three days? _"I just wanted to see if you'd learned anything more about obtaining a lawyer for me."

He sent her a look. "It has been exactly forty-eight hours since you requested me to do this favor for you—lawyers work on scheduled hours. I work on scheduled hours. I am a very busy man. Do you know how hard it is to find good, honest lawyers nowadays?"

"Have you even _tried_?"

The Director ignored her implications. "I'm working on it, Miss Taijiya, I really am. But lawyers are expensive, and I'm not sure your bank account can cover enough time for the lawyer to do an adequate job."

"As long as he gets me out of here, I don't care how many acclamations he's won," she snapped.

"You don't have anyone else to back you up?"

"As I said before: Charlie MacLachlan."

"And he is a relation to you?"

"My father's best friend." Did the man have a memory condition, or was he just retarded?

"Your _late_ father?"

"_Yes_," she ground out. "In his will, he left Kohaku and I under Charlie's care. Charlie took over the bar in my father's place. He's like my godfather."

"He's _like _your godfather. But he isn't _actually _your godfather?"

"No."

"Miss Taijiya, I cannot randomly call people up and ask them to support you in order to buy you a lawyer."

"Charlie isn't some random person! He would support me—I'm like his daughter!"

"He has enough money to do this?"

Sango glowered. "If we pooled our money—"

"Let me tell you something, Miss Taijiya. It is very rare that people are put in this center under mistake. If you were completely innocent, there is no doubt in my mind that you wouldn't be here."

Sango suddenly felt lightheaded. "Are you—are you saying that—"

"I am saying that it is extremely unlikely that an newly-turned eighteen-year-old charged with attempted murder will be released from this center easily."

"It—was—self—defense!" she shouted. "How much louder do I have to say it so it penetrates your skull? IT WAS SELF-DEFENSE!"

"I heard you quite clearly the first—and second—and third times, Miss Taijiya. Unfortunately, with no witnesses, and the word of the prominent president of Bank of America—whom you attacked and accused of rape—your prospects are rather bleak."

"You—you—"

The director glanced at his watch. "Four-forty-five. Isn't it time for your meeting with the psychiatrist?"

"I don't need a shrink," snarled Sango.

"Your teacher tells me you need a shrink, so you'll _get _a shrink," the director snapped back. "I don't need your attitude, young lady. You're lucky enough to be here at all. By all rights you should be in a _regular _jail—only by the kindness and goodwill of the judge are you here at all. But be assured," he said, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper, "I will have _no _trouble at all arranging a transfer for you."

"To bad you can't arrange me a lawyer with as much facility," Sango shot back. "But then…that would actually be _helping _someone, now, wouldn't it?"

With that, she turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her.

The director simmered before picking up his cell phone and speed-dialing a number. "Bankotsu? Yeah, it's me… Renkotsu. I think there's something you should know…"

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"Hey," Kagome said, squinting through the fogged windshield of Miroku's car. "There's someone in my driveway."

"Imagine that."

"You could lose the sarcasm."

"Sorry. Maybe you have a visitor."

"A visitor? Me? You're joking, right?"

"Well what do you call those three friends of yours?" he asked, parking on the side of the road. "Sorry, we're going to have a make a run for it—your visitor's car is blocking the driveway."

"That's okay. It's not like we're not saturated already." She opened her door and dashed out of the car, shielding her backpack from the rain, Miroku not far behind. "And Eri, Yuka, and Ayumi are hardly classified as visitors. They would fall under the 'indefinite residents' category."

"I see." Miroku had already reached her doorstep and was shielded from the rain by the overhang. He waited for her to reach the doorstep before reaching for the doorbell.

"Don't bother—I have a key." Kagome fished her key ring out of her backpack and inserted it in the lock. Before she turned it completely, she paused. "Would you like to come in? Get something to drink?" Her mother had drilled the rules of politeness into her head at a young age. She was expected to recite these lines to her playmates at the age of four, who found Kagome's manners quite amusing at the time.

Miroku smiled. "Thanks, but no. I have to get to practice—I'll already be late as it is."

"You're sure?" She finished the turn of the key and cracked open the door. She wasn't too disappointed by his answer: if Miroku had accepted her offer, the entire student body would know that Miroku Takeda had stepped inside Kagome Higurashi's house the night before.

"Yeah. Thank you, though."

"No problem." Awkward silence. "Well—see you at school tomorrow."

"Right. Bye, Higurashi."

"Bye, Take—"

The door suddenly swung open fully, jerking Kagome's hand, which was still holding the key inserted in the door, with it. "Sota! What's the big id…ea—" She cut off abruptly when she noticed the person standing in her doorway.

Principal Johnston.

_Oh. Crap._

"Uh…H-hello, Principal Johnston." Kagome was cringing under Johnston's hard glare. Do you know how scary it is to have _your _door opened by your manipulating Principal who is currently P.O. at you? "Eh…Won't you…come inside for a bit?" _Oh that was brilliant thinking, Kagome_.

"No, Miss Higurashi, why don't _you _step inside for a minute." She glanced towards Miroku and beckoned him with her finger. "You too, Takeda."

"Me?" Miroku looked like a guilty schoolboy.

"Yes, you. I've already phoned Coach Khan, he'll excuse you for today."

"Uh…great…"

"Both of you. Inside. Now."

Kagome and Miroku practically jumped in the house. For even if a student has done nothing wrong, when the _you're-in-major-trouble _tone is used, even the most innocent of persons will suddenly feel guilty.

The two students followed Principal Johnston through the hallway, towards Kagome's sitting room. Kagome felt weird having a teacher lead her through her own house…but what the heck.

"Please, Miss Higurashi, have a seat. Uh…Miroku, you can do whatever."

"I feel so loved," Miroku said under his breath.

Mrs. Higurashi was sitting in the chair opposite Kagome, looking deadly serious. Kagome swallowed. As Principal Johnston began to speak, Miroku took an unobtrusive seat on the floor.

"Kagome," she began, "your actions greatly disappointed me today."

Kagome stared back stoically, determined not to be roped into a guilt trip. "How so?"

"You gave me your word that you would go to the center, and then you shirk your duties to go do who-knows-what with Takeda; this is not the behavior I would expect from a girl such as yourself."

Mrs. Higurashi was now shooting death glares at a confused Miroku. Kagome could literally read her mother's look: _If you've done anything to my baby…_

"But that wasn't how it was at all!" said Kagome, already losing her cool. "I decided to walk home today, and then I got caught in the rain and was soaking wet before Miroku showed up and offered me a ride. Hey—and you were the one who sent him to go pick me up!" she added, glaring at Principal Johnston.

"Kagome!" her mother cried. "Watch your tone!"

Principal Johnston arched a brow. "I sent Miroku to fetch you nearly an hour ago. It should have taken him less than fifteen minutes to find and bring you home."

"Well…we talked a little…and—I dunno, we just talked and then he brought me home."

"Just talked?"

_What the hell are you trying to insinuate? _"Yes—just talked."

"I see." She turned to Takeda. "Is this the truth?"

Kagome's jaw went slack. "A-are you calling me a liar?"

Principal Johnston ignored her. "Miroku?"

"Yeah, that's what happened. It took a little convincing to get her into the car, so maybe that's what took up so much time."

"Fine. Still, Higurashi, there is the issue of skipping out on your duties."

"I never said I would go back there," said Kagome defensively.

"On the contrary—"

"_You _decided that I would go back there and _you _made that call to the director, assuring him I would arrive. I don't remember consenting to actually _go._"

"Ka_gome_!" her mother cried again. "You are being so disrespectful!"

The chastised girl just glowered.

Principal Johnston sighed. "Despite popular belief, Miss Higurashi, I am not an evil witch." (Kagome shot Miroku a suspicious; Miroku looked like he was trying to figure out where he'd heard those words before.) "I only want the best for my students. I want you to graduate on time; and this isn't possible unless you achieve the required number of hours. I believe that you have the ability to touch the lives of some of these less fortunate children in the juvenile delinquent center. Please, go back for this week and if it still isn't working out, I'll find you another situation. Does that sound fair to you?"

Put like that, how could she refuse without sounding like a spoiled brat? "But—but—I—"

"And as for you, Takeda—" Johnston turned to Miroku.

"Huh?" he said, his eyes widening. "What'd _I _do?"

"It has come to my attention that you also are lacking in community service hours."

"Uhhh…" Miroku had the hand-in-the-cookie-jar look on his face. "But only one or two…"

"More like four or five. Here's the deal: if you escort Kagome back and forth from juvy every day after school until graduation, I will sign the paper saying you have completed your hours. Even if you are short by a couple."

"Um…" He shot Kagome a glance. "No offense, but I think I'll just stay after school and help coach out with training new—"

Johnston sighed. "Would you like me to rephrase my statement? Takeda, you _will _escort Higurashi to and from juvy every day until graduation, or I will _not _sign the paper you need."

Miroku gave Principal Johnston a horrified look. "But—"

"This is a reasonable request on my part. Miss Higurashi, this is not a personal attack, but judging by your past actions, you need a chaperone. Miroku, you need to spend less time worrying about your hair and 'checking out chick's legs' and spend more time serving your community. I think this experience will be good for you both."

Kagome and Miroku looked at each other in mortification, and then back to Johnston. "But—!"

"It's settled then. The director won't mind if you're a few hours late, Higurashi. Miroku, do you have enough gas to get Kagome to the center?"

"Uh—yeah—"

"Good." Johnston smiled brightly, her dimples flashing. "Now run along, you two, while Mrs. Higurashi and I have a nice little chat." She wiggled her fingers at them in wave-like fashion. "Tootle-loo!"

Rather freaked out, Kagome jumped to her feet and dragged Miroku out of the house. As she was closing the door, Johnston's voice floated behind them: "And don't forget: be home in exactly two hours and thirty minutes or else you both have detentions for the rest of the week!"

"God—damn—it." Kagome slammed the door shut.

Miroku winced at the reverberations of the door and Kagome's language. "I didn't realize you were such a violent girl, Higurashi. Had I known, I would have paid attention to you more often—"

"Shut up and get into the car. Let's get this damn thing over with so we can graduate and kiss Johnston goodbye."

"I have a voodoo doll at home," offered Miroku.

"Later, Takeda, later." She yanked open the car door and pulled it shut, the force of her grasp causing the car to rock back and forth .

"Take it easy, this car wasn't cheap!"

Kagome mumbled something under her breath in response.

Miroku turned the ignition and roared down the street.

"Hey…about that voodoo doll…"

.

.

.

_Fifty-one…fifty-two…fifty-three…_

"No fair," a pale, freckle-faced kid whined. "I think we should have separate competitions for humans and demons."

"Yeah?" Inuyasha threw over his shoulder as he pulled himself into his fifty-fourth pull-up. "And just which category would I be in, huh? Human or demon?"

"Human," Koga shouted. "Pathetic blood belongs with pathetic beings."

"Shut the h—"

"SILENCE!" the coach bellowed. "Finish your pull-ups, Takahashi, so the others can have a turn."

"'Kay."

After his hundred-and-twentieth pull up, Koga's snores and Freckle Face's whines were ricocheting off the walls even worse than before.

.

.

.

"Miss Taijiya."

"No."

"But—"

"_No_."

"It's chicken teriyaki! Your favorite! You have to keep up your health!"

"For the last—freaking—time—I do not want any dinner. You can take that plate right back to your director and shove it up his ass—compliments of The Demon Slayer."

The aide winced. "Miss Taijiya, such language really isn't becoming to a lady…"

"Lady?" Sango looked away from the plump, matronly brunette standing in the doorway of her cell. Tears glistened down her cheeks and she used the ends of her lusterless hair to wipe them away. "I don't remember ever being called a lady."

"Oh, but you are, Miss Taijiya!" The woman nodded resolutely, her chubby face bobbing up and down in the most absurd manner. "Why, you're the prettiest woman I've seen in a long time. My boys back at home would jump at the chance to marry a sweet girl like you—"

"_Marry?_" Sango barked. "Marry? Right—they'd screw me and then leave me in the dirt." She didn't even try to curb the hateful words, and ignored the matron's gasp of horror. "Men are all the same. Don't try and tell me otherwise."

The matron sniffed. "Well! That's the last time I try and help the needy!"

"Go do your 'Christian duty' at some charity where the churchy people can record your points. No one appreciates your false sympathy here."

The gate slammed behind the affronted woman. Sango smiled bitterly. _How much I've changed…what would father say if he saw me now? _

She pushed the thought out of her mind. She might as well get used to it—now that she was in juvy for murder, and had nearly been raped, she'd never be respected again.

May as well fulfill people's expectations of her.

.

.

.

The car engine died with a flick of Miroku's wrist. "We're here," he said unnecessarily.

"Mmm."

Miroku sighed and leaned against the steering wheel. "What's the matter now?"

"Principal Johnston."

"Smooth talker, isn't she? She should be a politician."

"Yeah," said Kagome scathingly.

"Hey, lighten up," Miroku said. "It's not _so _bad—just a few community service hours."

Kagome's eyes flashed. "_You_ don't have to fear for your virginity—or dignity. All you have to do is play the chauffer for a while." She looked down at herself. "Aw…man, my shirt is soaked. Damn, it's white too…" She cast Miroku a glance. "And when were you planning on telling me this?"

"Telling you what?" he said innocently.

"I should have figured. Do you have an extra shirt in here with you?" She eyed Miroku. Sans the broad shoulders and bulging muscles, he wasn't that much larger than her…

Miroku reached back and fished a rather rumpled standard uniform oxford shirt out of his gym bag. "Here: this one actually smells decent."

"Thanks." She held the shirt in her hands for a minute before saying, "Um, can you turn away so I can change?"

He sighed and complied.

She quickly stripped off her soggy uniform shirt and slipped into Miroku's buttoning it up as quickly as possible. Her green pleated skirt was still wet, but at least it wasn't see-through.

"Cool, so…I'll pick you up in two hours?"

"Yup." Kagome made no move to get out of the car.

"You feel like getting out any time soon?"

"Not really."

"Well, hey, I still have practice to make, so it'd be nice if I could get there sometime soon…" When he received no response, he resorted to a more direct statement: "Get out of the car, Higurashi."

Kagome shot the hot violet-eyed wrestler a death glare. "You can't make me."

"Don't be so juvenile." Miroku paused. "No pun intended." When Kagome snorted, he continued: "Stop sulking and get out of the car. I have things to do, places to be, people to see—"

"Girls to grope, reflections to appraise—" Kagome continued the list sarcastically. "Fine. Pick me up at six o'clock _sharp_ or I will permanently maim your beautiful face."

Miroku shot her a grin, his dimples flashing. "You think my face is beautiful?"

"Get over yourself." Kagome opened the door with her nose in the air and tried to climb out—

Only to find that she was still strapped in by the seatbelt.

Miroku wasn't even trying to disguise his snickers..

"Jerk," muttered Kagome, untangling herself and shutting the door behind her with more force than necessary.

Miroku revved up his engine and sped away.

"Remember! If you're late I'll skin you alive!" Kagome yelled after him, the lingering scent of gasoline polluting the air. "And I'll drag that car of yours to the scrap yard!"

_"I'll get you, Dorothy—and your little dog too,"_ a mocking voice said from behind her.

Kagome whirled around, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice. She was standing on the sidewalk in front of the doors to get into the place…there was chain-link fence surrounding the grounds next to and behind the immediate building… did someone duck behind the shadows?

She almost walked closer to take a better look (and kick the crap out of whoever was mocking her)…but then she remember that she really wanted to return home _alive _today.

_Why me? _

With a sigh that could have rivaled hurricane gusts, she moved towards the doors to the center.

.

.

.

Inuyasha jiggled his foot, creating a tapping noise against the metal of the chair. He was sitting just outside the director's office, in the main waiting room. He found it rather strange that they made inmates and visitors wait in the same room—the same room that the short-tempered receptionist with that disgusting mole on her chin resided.

_They either have explicit trust in us delinquents…or they want to scare away all outsiders to make visiting hours a whole lot hectic. _

He was leaning towards the second option.

"Oy! Bitch!"

The perpetual sounding of the receptionist's clicking keyboard didn't stop.

"Yo, receptionist lady!"

She didn't even look up. "Yes?"

"Did the director croak while I've been waiting out here?"

"No, Mr. Takahashi, he's quite alive."

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Your voice is very distinctive—rather annoying, if you ask me. Like grating aluminum foil over sandpaper."

"You do this often?"

"Only after a day like this," she replied wearily. "First that kid's acne started throbbing…then that girl demanded a lawyer again…then that kid who wet his pants and needed yet another standard-issue uniform…now _you_…"

"Who wet his pants?" Was it that little red-headed runt he shared a cell with? He needed new blackmail material—that runt was such a smarty-pants.

"That," she said with sickening sweetness, "is none of your business, young man."

"Just trying to make conversation. So…when are you gonna get that mole removed?"

"This," the receptionist nearly shrieked, "is a beauty-mark!"

"To turn on blind, low-life demons? I wouldn't have thought it of you."

"Mr. Takahashi, if I hear one more word out of that foul mouth of yours, I swear I will—"

The intercom on the receptionist's desk whined to life. Both the smirking hanyou and the seething receptionist turned to look at the screeching appliance.

"Ms. Urasue, is Mr. Takahashi ready?"

"_Yes!_" the receptionist practically shouted. "Inuyasha—you can go in now."

"Right." Inuyasha stood and strode towards the director's office door. "Hey—" he turned to face the receptionist once again. "Do me a favor and skip my cell at dinner hour? I'm actually hungry today, and I don't feel liking chucking my food."

The receptionist's eyebrow started to twitch madly.

With one last smirk, Inuyasha disappeared into the director's office.

Less than thirty seconds had passed before the front door banged open and a dark-haired girl in a private school uniform skipped in, the smile on her face so fake that it could have plastered Inuyasha to the wall in fear.

"I'm ba–ack!" she sang. "Did anyone miss me?" Her phony perky attitude fell when the receptionist started banging her forehead against the desk. "Are…you all right?" she asked hesitantly. "I was only joking…"

The receptionist started mumbling what sounded like a list under her breath. "…then him…now _you_…"

"Bad day?" Kagome said sympathetically. "I understand."

"No, I don't think you do." The receptionist still looked like she was in her own little dream world. "Trust me, the loony bin is more sane than this place… Higurashi, is it? I'll alert the guards…"

.

.

.

"You called, milord?"

Renkotsu looked up to find the troublemaking hanyou leaning causally in the doorway of his office. "Please, come in, Mr. Takahashi."

"Thanks. Don't mind if I do." The hanyou took a seat. "So. You called?"

Director Renkotsu Shichi folded his hands and rested them on the desk. "I've heard," he said slowly, "that you have been causing problems within your school classes, Mr. Takahashi."

"Have you really."

"Shall I read them off for you?" Renkotsu shifted the yellow sheet of paper in front of him so that it was within Inuyasha's line of vision. "Neglecting homework…distracting schoolmates…fights during P.E.—at least once a day—rude towards aides…" He looked up. "How long have you been with us, Mr. Takahashi?"

"Two weeks as of today."

"I see. Twelve days and you're already labeled a troublemaker. Not a good beginning, Takahashi."

"Have I disappointed your expectations in me? I'm so sorry." Inuyasha pulled a sad face.

Shichi sighed. "It's hard to believe that you're really seventeen years old."

"Yeah? I can be serious if I want to. Like now. Why the hell has my lawyer not visited me yet?"

Shichi raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps he is…busy?"

"He promised me he'd get me out of this mess," growled Inuyasha. "It's not like him to stay away for so long."

"He probably has other work to do."

"I'm his godson—I think that I would be first priority."

"Inuyasha…let me tell you something." Shichi leaned forward and stared the hanyou straight in the eye. "The world does not revolve around you. A few years in this center will do you no harm. If anything, it will teach you respect and a good work ethic—if you take advantage of your opportunities. If you continue to slack off and goof off like you have been, I can assure you that the future will not be bright."

"What, are you my guidance counselor now?" Inuyasha stood, his eyes sparking in anger. "I was put in this damn place on a fluke—I neither deserve nor want to be here. I'm sitting here, rotting away, nearly going crazy with the knowledge that Kikyo was murdered…when the real murderer is probably prancing around a bar right now, reveling in his good fortune!"

Renkotsu's face remained expressionless. "So you _want_ us to believe…"

Inuyasha restrained himself from clobbering the director right then and there. "Bastard," he swore softly.

"That will be all, Mr. Takahashi," Renkotsu said mildly. "Behave yourself, or else I'll have to schedule you for another talk sometime soon."

"Keh." The hanyou stalked out of the office, barreling straight into the receptionist, knocking her to the ground. He didn't even stop to help her up as he stormed down the hallway.

"Ohhh…" Urasue rubbed her temples as she picked up the scattered papers. "Young ones these days…"

.

.

.

Sango stared out the small, barred window in her cell. Her cellmate was napping quietly on the cot, her forgotten homework crumpled beneath her sleeping form. Sango sighed. She didn't even know the girl's name. She didn't know anyone's name in this place…

A bird chirped outside and the wind resulted in the trees. A lump formed in Sango's throat so quickly she didn't have time to push it down. How she longed to be outdoors again—to see the sky, hear the crunch of St. Augustine grass under her feet, scowl in disgust at the discarded gum wads on the public sidewalks.

There were a million things she wished to do. She wanted to stroll down the aisles of Publix again…she wanted to sit in the dusty old school library and curl up in one of the itchy chairs…she wanted to look up at the stars out of her window, to be able to turn on the radio as loud as she wanted without having an aide yell at her, or another inmate criticize her taste in music. She wanted to be able to listen to music in her room, not trudge down to the small library with a single short-wave radio on one of the desks.

She wanted to be able to go to a real school again, to have some privacy…

She wanted to see Kohaku.

_Kohaku_… Tears blurred her vision and she turned over on her stomach, so that her cries were muffled by the hard bedding of the cot. _How are you doing? How are you surviving without me? What's happening with that little friend you made…the young girl? _

Sango wished to get out of this place with all her heart. She was wasting time in here…she could be finishing her education, earning money, arguing with lawyers to get her brother out of that foster home…

What did she do to deserve this?!

She remembered a song that she'd heard on the radio a lot while working in the storerooms of K-Mart…and the words suddenly came back to her, like a door in her brain opening to reveal a memory. Through her teary haze she began to sing quietly: _"Well, all she wants and all she needs are reasons to survive; a day in which the sun will take her artificial light…"_

.

.

.

"Inuyasha!"

_"Leave. Me. Alone."_

Shippo froze, his tiny body poised to jump onto Inuyasha's still form…but at the ferocity in the hanyou's tone, he thought better of it. "Geez…what's your problem?"

"Mind your own damn business."

"Hey—no need to get touchy. I'm just askin'."

"And I'm tellin' ya to bug off." Inuyasha rolled on the other side of his cot, facing the wall.

"Fine then. I'll entertain myself. I don't need you." Shippo bounced on his bed and pulled out his cat's cradle.

Inuyasha didn't answer.

Shippo sighed in annoyance. His new cellmate wasn't any fun. His last cellmate had been closer to his age and the two of them had hit off at once. They conversed over breakfast, went to "school" together, ate lunch in the library, returned to "school", spent their free time together, played "Eye Spy" during dinner, and so on and so forth.

Inuyasha was too moody to do _anything _with. What was this guy's problem? Couldn't he see that juvy was better than being out on the streets? Shippo sighed. He actually enjoyed being in juvy. People here fed him, clothed him, educated him, and there were plenty of kids to talk to—those that didn't try to kill him, that was. This was much better than the foster system.

Shippo's ears suddenly perked as he heard a sniffling noise. He glanced at the cell across from him: the two girls were both asleep on their cots; one face-down, the other crushing her homework. He sniffed the air. Yep, he smelled salt water. Tears.

His eyes wandered over to Inuyasha's form. The hanyou wasn't moving…except…were his shoulders shaking?

Shippo's eyes widened in disbelief. No…Inuyasha _crying?_ Unthinkable.

Naturally, he had to go check it out.

He carefully crept off his bed and tiptoed over to the other side of the cell. If he could just lean over Inuyasha's form and take a good whiff—

A terrified scream interrupted his sleuthing activity. He jumped a mile and landed on top of the hanyou, who in return, flung him against the wall with a _"I told you to leave me alone, dammit!"_

Shippo rubbed his sore head and scowled in the direction of the scream. "Curses…"

.

.

.

Kagome's scream reverberated off the hallways throughout the center. The blue-eyed demon flinched, but didn't move. Kagome was leaned up against the wall, her hand against her chest. "Are you t-trying to scare a few years off my life?"

The blue-eyed demon just stared at her. "What are you doing back here?" he asked.

"I told you. Working."

"I thought Dog Crap had scared you away last time."

"Dog…Crap…?" Why did he think she'd been scared away by excrement…?

"That pitiful excuse for a half-demon. Inu-boy."

Enlightenment dawned on her. "Oh—Inuyasha?"

The demon's scowl only deepened.

"Scared? Me? Who do you take me for?" Ignoring Koga's look, she rambled on, "I had a—meeting…that I'd forgotten about."

"Uh huh, right. Whatever you say, sweetheart."

She glared at him. "Don't call me that."

"What? 'Sweetheart'? Do you find that offensive?"

"N-no, just…" _Just that's a special name that I would only want my boyfriend…if I had one, that is…to call me._ "Never mind."

"Okay."

Suddenly self-concious, Kagome returned to the filthy window. They'd relegated her to cleaning again, and somehow this cell seemed to have gotten a whole lot dirtier in the time she'd been gone…

"Didn't I clean your cell just the other day?"

"Yes."

"Then how did it get so dirty again?"

"This isn't my cell."

Kagome finger froze on the trigger of the Windex bottle. "It's not?"

"Nope."

"Then…um…what are you doing here?"

"Visiting," he said simply.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Like…school or the psychiatrist or something?"

His eyes darkened. "It's after dinner. We're supposed to be in our cells right now."

"But I thought…you had chores?" Isn't that what the receptionist had told her?

"It's Thursday. They shut us all up in our cells after dinner."

"So what are you doing out of yours?"

"I slipped out," he said with no hint of remorse.

"H-how?" Kagome started wiping the windows faster. "And where is the guy that's supposed to be in this cell?"

"Nurse. Lice. And I cut the bars with my claws."

Kagome shrieked and dropped the Windex bottle on the ground. "This cell…is infected with _lice?_" That was one her she and her mother hadn't thought of…

"Don't worry, nursie whisked him out of here before any little buggers had time to escape, I'm sure."

"Yeah…" Kagome said absently, patting down her hair. She moved backwards out of the cell… "This one looks pretty clean, now that I think about it…maybe I'll move on to the next cell now…"

Koga handed her the bottle of Windex with a gallant bow, which she took absently before hurrying out of the cell.

The wolf demon smirked at the girl's retreating back, his fangs showing slightly. Little private school girls were so fun to play with…

.

.

.

Wolf whistle's and hoots filled the hallway as Kagome self-consciously walked towards the waiting room again. The last time she'd been here, the cells had been empty; how was she supposed to clean with a bunch of rowdy boys hollering about her legs? Was it her dang fault that the uniform skirts showed so much leg?

She burst through the door that led to the reception area…only to find the secretary's desk to be deserted. "Great…" She then noticed a sign taped to the overhang counter. Hoping that it would provide an explanation for the receptionist's disappearance, she moved closer to read it.

_If you are a visitor, please come back tomorrow during regular visiting hours._

_ If you are a volunteer, please report to the classroom area and ask a teacher for direction. Do not bother The Director._

_ If you are an inmate wandering the place without permission—go to hell!_

"Looks like they don't have a resident psychiatrist for nothing," Kagome murmured. She turned around and stared at the door, wishing for an alternate route to the classrooms. From studying the floor plan, the only way to get to the classrooms was to pass through the hallways of cells. It made it simpler to keep kids under control this way.

"But it sure makes life hell for me." She cast a glance towards The Director's office door. He wasn't to be disturbed…but surely he wouldn't mind if she asked him to chaperone her to the classrooms? If this was her safety in question, shouldn't he be more than willing to comply?

She raised her fist to knock on the door—

Only to have the door open before she could rap her knuckles on the wood. A tall, bald man with cold eyes and a turban-like…thing…stared down at her. "Yes?"

"I…I…" She swallowed and started again. "I'm Kagome Higurashi and…um…I was wondering if I could do something else besides clean because—not because I'm lazy, that's not it!—but the inmates make me feel—uh—uncomfortable…"

"Completely understandable. Go to the classrooms and find a teacher—they'll find something for you to do. Give my regards to Ms. Johnston." He closed the door.

Kagome blinked. "Well then…" She took a deep breath. "Into the gauntlet!"

.

.

.

What was this, a freakin' circus?

Inuyasha flattened his ears against his head, trying to tune out the noise. Why was everyone shouting? Had they just admitted a hooker as an inmate…still in costume?

He groaned and yelled, "SHADDUP OUT THERE!" a the top of his lungs.

Only to be ignored.

"They're not listening to you, Inuyasha," Shippo said. "They're all ogling at the girl."

_One point for Inuyasha._ "Poor sods. Haven't they ever seen a loose woman before?"

"That's not very nice," scolded Shippo. "Poor girl—she's probably scared out of her wits."

"Scared? This is probably the most business she's gotten in months."

The kit frowned. "Are we talking about the same thing?"

"I really don't—" He just then caught sight of the girl and bolted straight off his cot. "You again!"

Kikyo's double jumped and looked into his cell. A dismayed looked crossed her face—

—right before she took off running…

…straight into Koga.

"Well, hey there, sweetheart," he said, giving her his heartbreaker smile, while enfolding her in his arms. "Missed me that much, hmm?"

"Uh…" Kagome was discreetly trying to push the demon away. "Koga—I really have to be somewhere…"

"Aw, honey, we just found each other again!" He shot an unidentifiable look towards Inuyasha, and tightened his embrace.

A grin suddenly broke across Inuyasha's face. Was the stupid wolf actually trying to make him _jealous? _Over that bitch that dared to show up with Kikyo's face? He lazily leaned back on his cot and watched the scene before him in amusement. The schoolgirl in the short, wet skirt wasn't trying to hide her attempts to detach herself from Koga's embrace anymore…all while Koga was pulling her closer, watching Inuyasha intently.

Inuyasha smiled and sent Koga a thumb's-up. "Way to go, lover boy!"

The stupid wolf looked confused.

"Too bad you're too slow to realize you'll both be busted in a few minutes."

The girl was on the verge of panic now, resorting to hitting Koga's back and yelling, "Let me go! Let me go _now!_"

Inuyasha winked at his rival before bellowing at the top of his lungs, _"FIGHT!" _

Koga let go of Kagome as if she'd burned him. She fell to the ground with a yelp, inadvertently showing more leg than should be exposed in a hallway full of lustful young males…

"Bastard," Koga snarled to Inuyasha before speeding down the hallway.

"Hey!" Inuyasha ran to the bars of his gate and leaned on them, catching only a glimpse of a rapidly retreating Koga. Dammit, this wasn't how he'd planned it! "Coward! Get back here! You wimpy wo—_ooolf_—"

His gate had somehow become unlocked in the period from when Shippo had entered to when Kagome was attacked. The barred door swung open and with no resistance to hold him up, Inuyasha tumbled down on the ground—straight onto Kagome, who had been trying to pull her skirt farther down on her legs.

(Back in the cell, Shippo was twiddling a hairpin between in fingers.)

She shrieked and shoved him off of her. "You—you—pervert!"

At that exact moment, an guard skidded around the corner. "What's all the ruckus about?" His eyes widened as he took in a near-tears-Kagome and a rumpled Inuyasha, both sprawled on the floor within inches of each other.

_Aw crap…_ "This isn't what it looks like!" Inuyasha yelled, scrambling to his feet. "That wolf—Koga—was trying to rape her and my door swung open and…"

"Yeah, try another." The guard snagged Inuyasha by the arm and Kagome by the other, hauling them both down the hallway. "The Director's not gonna be too happy about having his dinner break disrupted…"

"Wait! You've got the wrong man, dammit!" Inuyasha jerked his arm out of the guard's grasp. "I didn't do anything!"

"Right—that's what they all say." The guard's face didn't event change expression. "I imagine this young lady would be happy to tell her side of the story to the Director, wouldn't you, Miss—uh…oh, blazes."

Kagome slumped to the floor in an unconscious state.

"She…passed out?" Inuyasha asked rhetorically.

"Guess all the excitement was too much for her." The guard scratched his dead.

"What a pansy." Inuyasha snorted. _Nothing like Kikyo. Kikyo would have beaten the crap out of Koga the minute that filthy pointy-eared wimp laid a finger on her…_

"And you!" The guard grabbed Inuyasha again, and this time swung him around so the hanyou's arms were twisted around his back. "You have got a lot of explaining to you, young sir."

Inuyasha made a growling noise in the back of his throat as the guard forcibly pushed him down the hallway, towards that wooden door with "EVIL" written all over it.

He must be cursed…

.

.

.

Miroku showed his school ID to the guard at the entrance gate and squealed into the parking lot of the juvenile delinquent center, not bothering to find a parking space. He put the gear shift into park, yanked the keys out of the ignition, and leapt out of the car, leaving it smack dab in the middle of the fire lane.

He pushed his sweaty hair out of his face—his hair tie had broken sometime during wrestling practice—and sprinted for the entrance doors It was exactly 6:03…and counting. Kagome was probably pacing in the waiting area, just waiting for him to enter so she could scream her lungs out at him…

Not to mention her mother and Principal Johnston, whose faces were probably pressed against the front window of the Higurashi house, watching the clock tick towards 6:30.

He reached the entranceway and wrenched the heavy doors open, bursting into the waiting area. "Kagome, let's go! It's already six…oh…three…" His words trailed off into silence.

Before him was a red-faced guard who was twisting the arms of a scowling white-haired hanyou behind his back, an old hag with an ugly mole on her face shrieking about reputations and liability, and a tall bald man in a suit holding an unconscious Kagome bridal-style.

The people paused their argument briefly to see who had suddenly burst into the room, though when seeing it was only a sweaty teenaged boy, resumed their bickering at full volume.

With a forlorn glance at his wristwatch, Miroku heaved a deep sigh.

Just how was he supposed to explain _this_?

.

.

.

_._

A/N: o0 Has it really been a month already? Heh heh…oops. Sorry bout the delay…

Wow, longer chapter than I expected. But this'll compensate for any short chapters, ne? And sorry about the lack of action b/t Inuyasha and Kagome…thirteen pages size 9 font and that's all I got. _-huffs-_ this chapter turned out to be longer than planned…I promise there'll be more interaction in the next chappie. And some Mir/San stuff too.

And just to say: I have never been to juvy, so I have no idea what a standard compound would look like, but this story gives my interpretation of it. I asked a friend (who has been there) about scheduling and they said that yes, inmates were on a strict schedule and had to complete specific chores at a certain time, have meals at specific times; or just have days where they'd sit in there cells and do nothing (although they did have education of some form there). So. This is my interpretation of juvy. I realize that it's a probably much darker place than this story makes it out to be… but I have artistic license, right?

Hey, I heard the series is ending in September! In Japan at least. I can't believe it… dang, we only have 18 measly books out in the US… -_sigh_- being patient is so hard…

Hope you enjoyed chapter four. Stayed tuned for more drama in the coming chapter five…

And…review, onegai!

Ja ne.


	5. Inner Wounds

**_Guilty As Charged_**

-

**Chapter Five: **

**INNER WOUNDS**

-

-

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. _

Kagome clenched her teeth. If he swung his foot and hit that metal chair _one more time_, she'd—

_Thump._

That did it. That absolutely did it. If Inuyasha was a normal guy, she would have yelled at him at least five minutes ago. But now—murderer or not, he was about to get it.

She cleared her throat. "Hey…can you stop that, please?"

God, she sounded like a timid school kid with a crush.

He glared at her, the thumping not ceasing.

Kagome clenched her hands, restraining herself from bursting out with a stream of epithets. She was majorly ticked off today—she _really_ did not want to be here right now, and now that she was going to be late coming home…getting the third degree was a given.

That little episode in the hallway wasn't Inuyasha's fault—he all but fell out of his cell, but still—he wasn't helping her mood any.

"Look," she snapped. "That's getting really annoying. I know you're anxious to tell them your side of the story, but sitting there banging on the chair isn't going to make them decide any faster."

He still didn't answer, although the thumping sound did slow a bit.

The two of them were sitting in the reception area with Miroku (who was slumped in his chair, apparently asleep, with his headphones blaring out music), waiting for the guard and the director to emerge from the Director's Office and ask _them _what happened.

Kagome shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to do with the sudden silence. She'd never had trouble starting conversations before… but what exactly could she and Inuyasha possibly discuss? She could almost hear the possible conversation. _Nice weather we're having lately… -Yeah, too bad I'm locked up in the center most of the day. How's your love life going? -Oh not too bad—just murdered my old lover, haven't been in a serious relationship since. You have any hobbies? -As of now, just beating up other demons and terrorizing the secretary._

"So… your name's Inuyasha Takahashi?" Kagome winced as soon as the words left her mouth. Lame, lame, lame!

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "Cut the act, bitch—everyone who watches the news knows my name."

"Is your last name Japanese?" One of Kagome's nervous habits was to talk. She could make small talk with everyone from the school janitor to the two year old Dennis-the-Menace if it would calm her nerves.

"Sure."

"Was that a 'yes' or a 'no'?"

"Whatever works for you, darling," he drawled.

Kagome frowned. So much for conversation making. Maybe she'd better talk for a bit. "I was just asking because my name is—Higurashi—and if two people come from the same place, it kind of, you know, bonds them."

He gave her a slanted look. "You normally go around 'bonding' with criminals?"

"I haven't met any—besides you, that is," she said honestly.

"Let me give you a piece of advice, sweetheart: we're criminals for a reason. There aren't many 'good people' in prison." He snickered.

"That's such a generic term," said Kagome. "'Good.' I think everyone has some good in them."

"Just some more than others?" he finished, a mocking smile on his face.

"Exactly," she said earnestly. She was always trying to run this theory on her friends, but hit a dead-end every time. "Everyone has good in them—but sometimes unavoidable circumstances hit a person, forcing them to take actions which are not viewed by the majority of the public as 'good.'"

"I beg to differ," he said, giving her a superior smirk. "I have known many people that throughout their whole pampered, rich lives have been bad."

"But that's a circumstance, isn't it?" Kagome countered. "Their circumstance was luxury. They took advantage of their luxury and made bad choices."

"What about me?" Inuyasha retorted. "I could have turned out good. I just chose not to."

"W-well—" Kagome hesitated. How exactly did she reply to that? "I'm sure you have a good reason for…"

He whipped his head around and glared at her with such force that she jerked back a bit. "For murdering Kikyo?" he snarled.

"Uh—"

"That's what you were going to say, weren't you?"

"Well…yeah…" Why deny it? He couldn't kill her when the director was just inside, right? And Miroku was here to protect her, being the wrestling champion that he was. Although… Kagome glanced at the bulging muscles beneath the standard-issue uniform of the juvenile center: red scrubs that looked like they'd been stolen out of an Emergency Room supply room.

"Let me tell you something, little girl," he said, crossing his arms and staring at her with an unreadable expression. "I—" He stopped and his brow furrowed; he appeared to be in deep concentration. "I'm going to try something," he said slowly, leaning back into his chair so that he was comfortable. "I'm going to tell you the truth."

". . . H-huh?" _The truth?__ What, does that mean everything else he's been telling me was a lie?_

"I'm going to tell you my side of the story—the complete truth, not leaving anything out. All I ask is that you listen. You can accept my story as the truth; you can dismiss it as complete bullshit; I really don't care what you do, considering I don't give a damn about you. Got that?"

"Yeah," she said, a tad resentful about that last statement. She was a little befuddled at his sudden declaration, and, truth to be told, at the moment she thought him to be more guilty than innocent, but what could it hurt to listen? "Tell away."

He took a deep breath before starting. "First off, I need you to understand something: Kikyo Ito was a normal girl—she was no different than you, or any friends you may have. She was probably better than all of you combined. The only different was she was a prostitute. But before you start jumping to hasty conclusions," he gave her a look as he said this, "the only reason she 'defiled herself' in this way was so she could survive. Her abusive dad left her when she was a kid, and her mom worked minimum wage at some dumpy company. It was either do that or starve. That supports your choices theory, right?"

He didn't wait for her to answer. "I met her in a church. My suck-up bastard of a brother was trying to impress his boss and get a promotion, so I hung around that place a lot. Met her there one day, listening to the choir sing. The look on her face was one of…rapture, I guess you could say. She was—ashamed of herself. _Ashamed_. She had _nothing _to be ashamed of. She was the only real person I'd ever met."

"Real?" Kagome couldn't help but interrupt.

"She didn't play games. She didn't hide behind a mask to make people like her. People hated her—there was nothing she could do to change that." He frowned. "Tell me, girl, what would you do if people hated you? Would you try and make them like you, or keep doing what you've always been doing?"

"In…my situation? Or in hers?"

"Yours. Hers. Does it really matter? Does it matter if she didn't stop being a prostitute, or if you don't stop lying to your mother? What's the difference, really?" He stared at the wall.

_So did he kill her or not?_ Kagome thought.

"I asked her to marry me," he said, "after I found out that the pimp was taking advantage of her."

Kagome squeaked.

"Sorry, little girl, am I putting bad thoughts in your head? Apologize to your mommy for me."

"I'm not offended," she said hurriedly, annoyed that he persisted in calling her a "little girl." They were the same age, after all. "Go on, please."

"I asked her to marry me. She didn't think I was sincere—she rejected me. I stormed out of her room and made it out onto the street before I was struck with a conscience." He laughed bitterly. "So I ran back upstairs, ready to apologize to her and found her face down on the bed. Stabbed to death." He expelled a breath. "The ring I'd offered to her was crushed—ground into fine powder. The police stormed into the room and found me there. You know the rest."

"How do you know she was murdered?" Kagome asked. "What if it was suicide?"

"It didn't look like suicide," he said. "The stab wounds were at an angle that would have been impossible for her to do to herself. Believe me, that was the first tactic my lawyer tried."

"Then how do you explain the ring?"

"No one knew about the ring."

"You mean you didn't tell them?"

He gave her a look. "No."

"Why not? That could have been your saving grace; maybe the person who killed her was mad that you proposed to her. Maybe they wanted her all themselves."

"Or perhaps the prosecutor would use it against me, saying that I was so enraged by her refusal that I was driven to murder. Use you brain, girl."

Kagome saw his point. But then… could she really believe him? How could she possibly know if he was telling the truth? He _sounded_ candid and honest—but like he said, he wasn't in a juvenile reform center for nothing.

"Maybe it was the pimp," she tried. "Perhaps he didn't like you infringing on his…goods…"

"Aren't you the clever one?" he said mockingly. "Fancy yourself to be the next Nancy Drew, huh?" He rolled his eyes. "Onigumo was the first suspect that came to mind."

"Onigumo…" she repeated. Why did that name sound so familiar? "Wait…" she said hesitantly. "Wasn't he the guy that was involved in that scandal a few years ago for illegally importing children from orphanages in Asia and putting them in his brothels?"

He gave her a sharp look. "What?"

"I read it in the newspaper a year or two ago. It said that this man by the name 'Onigumo'—supposedly that wasn't his real name, no one knows what that is—was buying orphan girls around thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen for obscenely low prices and putting them in his brothels. Sick monster," she said, shuddering. "But I thought he'd gone to jail."

"Really. I hadn't heard about that one." Inuyasha had that distant look in his eyes again. "Interesting…"

"So…you think it _was_ this man who murdered Kikyo?"

Inuyasha smirked at her, his golden eyes flashing. "Girl, it coulda been _anyone_. Hell, it was probably some random person off the street who'd seen her the night before and felt like killing someone. No one knows who it was."

"But you want to find out, don't you," she stated.

He gave her another one of those God-you're-stupid looks. "Duh."

"Mr. Takahashi." The director stepped out of his office. "You may tell your side of the story now."

Inuyasha immediately adopted a lazy look, crossing his legs and folding his hands behind his head. "Sure. Whatcha want to know?"

"From the eyes of the guard, you were assaulting this young woman right here; you were found on top of her, after her screams had echoed down the hallway a few moments before. What have you to say to this?"

"Sir." Kagome hastily jumped out of her chair. "May I say something please?"

"After Mr. Takahashi has finished, Miss Higurashi."

"But sir—"

"_Sit_."

Kagome's legs buckled and she sat down hard in her chair. Inuyasha snorted. "Sit, girl!" he mimicked.

"I'm doing this for _you_, moron," she hissed.

"Continue, Mr. Takahashi."

"I heard a big ruckus in the hallway. Leaned against the bars to see what it was. Saw that wolf trying to force himself on the girl. The door swung open and I fell on top of the girl; the Wimpy Wolf ran away with his tail between his legs."

"The door popped open?" The director raised a brow. "The cells are locked at all times."

Inuyasha shrugged. "I'm tellin' my side of the story."

"I see." He turned to Kagome. "And you, Miss…?"

"Just like he said: the wolf boy was hugging me—not assaulting me, just being a little too forward—his cell door flew open and he fell on top of me."

"The wolf boy? You mean Koga?"

"I believe that's his name," drawled Inuyasha.

"And he…was not assaulting you," the director said slowly, as if speaking to a retarded child.

Kagome simmered. Why was it that everyone here assumed she was an airhead? "No, sir. Just hugging me."

"Which is out-of-bounds for any inmate. They are not allowed to touch volunteers under any circumstances. I will deal with him accordingly." He turned to Inuyasha. "You are free to leave, Mr. Takahashi."

"Thanks, Baldy."

Kagome quickly turned her laugh into a cough.

Inuyasha gave her an inscrutable look and saluted her with two fingers. "Later." Then he turned and sauntered out of the waiting room.

The director's face darkened as he watched the hanyou exit. "I believe you have fulfilled your requirement for the day, Miss Higurashi. You are free to leave as well."

"Thank you, sir."

"I will make a call to Ms. Johnston explaining the situation."

"Um…thanks…" she said suspiciously. Just how would he make the situation sound? "Should I have you sign my paper now…?"

"Give it to Ms. Ursuae next week; she'll fill everything out." He motioned for the guard to return to the office and the two of them disappeared.

Kagome sighed and moved to wake Miroku. What stories she'd have to tell to her friends tomorrow…

-

-

-

Shippo bounced off the bed the minute Inuyasha entered the cell. "What happened, Inuyasha?" he yelled. "Didja get in trouble? Are you gonna be thrown out? What happened to the girl?"

"Koga's busted. I was let off the hook. Stop bothering me, runt, I'm tired."

Shippo refused to let the hanyou's cool manner discourage him. "What happened to Kagome?" he repeated.

"The girl? She went home."

"Is she ever gonna come back?"

"I doubt it. She's probably scarred for life." He flopped onto the mattress—if it deserved to be called even that—and closed his eyes. He probably scared the living daylights out of her. What had prompted him to go and tell his sob story like that? He didn't expect her to believe it—she probably still thought him a heartless murderer.

Still, it was amusing to see her try and find evidence to prove him innocent. Looked as if she had some brains underneath that beauty. Although it was more of a cuteness—Kikyo had been coolly beautiful—the similarity between her and his love was remarkable.

He fleetingly wondered if she was coming back. If she was foolish enough to return, he'd make sure to stay out of her way. That girl was walking trouble.

Shippo watched his cellmate drift off to sleep. He'd never met anyone so closed off to the world before. "Wonder what happened to him to make him such a meanie?" he muttered to himself.

-

-

-

Her homeroom seemed to be louder than usual the next day. Kagome had the biggest headache in the West Coast. Maybe it was all the stress from the day before?

"Morning, Kagome."

"Kags! You're alive! You survived juvy?"

"Barely." She dropped her books down on her desk with a thud. "Thank god it's only until graduation."

"That's what you get, you slacker," Yuka chided playfully, eating dry cereal out of a plastic baggie. "Tell us all about it."

"Erm…I'd rather not, actually…"

All three friends zeroed in. "What happened? Did you see that Inuyasha guy again?"

Damn, why did they have to be so perceptive…? "Maybe…" she evaded. "I can't really remember. It was very boring, actually. I just did more cleaning and crap." Under the desk, she crossed her fingers.

"Aww…" the three girls sighed.

"He's so hot," Eri sighed.

"And so a murderer," Ayumi reminded her.

_Or maybe not…_ Kagome thought.

Yuka was watching her. "What's that look for?"

"Huh? What look?" She knelt down and rummaged through her backpack, producing a paperback novel.

"I dunno, it was just a funny look… oooh, what chapter are you on?" Yuka snatched the book out of Kagome's hands. "Have Fernando and Juana run into each other at the bus stop yet?"

"Uh…no…"

"Oops! I won't spoil it then!" Yuka placed the book back on the table. "I better go finish my Trig homework." She retreated to her desk on the other side of the room. Eri followed her, begging for spoilers to the end of the romance novel.

Ayumi leaned against Kagome's desk. "So how did it _really_ go, Kagome?"

"Huh? I told you—"

"Yeah, you saw Inuyasha again. It's so obvious. What'd he do this time? Insult you again?"

"Well, yeah, of course. But he did tell me his side of the story."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, he told me about Kikyo. And how he didn't kill her."

Ayumi shook her head. "Probably trying to convince himself of his guilt. My dad says it's common, actually—sometimes the quilt is so much to bear that convicts will start fabricating stories to support their so-called 'innocence.'"

Is that what Inuyasha was doing? Kagome didn't want to think so. Although he was crass…and rude…and cynical… she wanted to believe that inside he was a good guy. She thought back to their conversation. After a while, he had lost a bit of his defensiveness. He'd still been insulting and rude…but he'd been more open. More like a normal guy.

"Kagome-chan?" Eri appeared by her side. "You have a dreamy look on your face," she said in Japanese.

Ayumi sighed. "C'mon, Eri, not that Japanese stuff again. You keep doing that and I'm going to burn off your ears with Yiddish."

"I do not have a dreamy look on my face," Kagome answered in a less perfected Japanese, not wanting Ayumi to understand her.

"You were thinking of Inuyasha weren't you?" Eri grinned.

"God, no! At least not in the way you're suggesting. Get it through your head—he's a criminal!"

"He's really hot though. And Fernando was a criminal too—but once Juana saw through his façade and came to know the real him…"

Kagome felt her cheeks begin to burn. The scenario was too close to her own thoughts for comfort. _What were you thinking, girl? That you could possibly get under his skin and be his "saving grace"? Yeah right. Time for a good dose of reality, Kagome_.

"He's a criminal. I'm volunteering. I'm going to off to UCLA in two months time and then I'll never see the idiot again. End of story."

As if asserting its agreement, the bell rang, sending students scrambling for their desks.

Ayumi and Eri ran back to their seats, leaving Kagome alone with her thoughts.

_Really, Kagome_, she scolded herself as the teacher began to take roll, _you need to get a hold of your foolish musings. He's dangerous—you don't know what he's really like inside. Be careful around him…there's just something about him that spells trouble._

-

-

-

Sango dully picked at her cold oatmeal. The girl beside her was wolfing down the glop like there was no tomorrow. Slightly sickened, Sango pushed the bowl away. The little pig turned calculating eyes on Sango's bowl.

"It's all yours." Sango pushed the bowl towards the fat girl, who clucked in glee and started spooning oatmeal out of both bowls…at the same time.

_Urgh_ Sango leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling, fully aware that she still had 25 minutes until breakfast was over and morning lessons would begin. She wished she could go sit in the library until the 25 minutes were up…but that was absolutely forbidden. _Verboten_, she thought dryly, her mind dredging up unwanted history lessons on World War Two. Normal school was bad enough, but these "classes" they held put her to sleep—especially since she'd already learned most of the curriculum they taught.

She apathetically looked around the cafeteria, her eyes scanning over the inmates. Her gaze fell on one boy who was sitting at the farthest table towards the wall, sullenly eating his oatmeal. He looked angry. _Very _angry. Sango followed his gaze and found it was resting on a hanyou who was idly stirring his spoon through his bowl. If eyes were lasers, the hanyou would be pierced full of holes by now.

_Wonder what he did to piss the wolf demon off?_ she thought absently. She scooted as far away from the piggish girl as she could, counting the minutes until breakfast was over.

-

-

-

"Bye guys—see you tomorrow." Kagome waved to her friends and looked around for Miroku's car. She heard a honk behind her; Miroku was waving at her out of his window. She smiled and waved back, walking towards his car, when she noticed her friends.

They were standing stock still, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open.

Kagome was perplexed for a minute, and then understanding dawned. "N-no!" she cried, holding up her hands. "This isn't what it looks like!"

"Kagome!" Ayumi shrieked. "Are you out of your _mind_?!"

"_You're_ Miroku's flavor of the week?" Yuka spluttered. "I don't believe you!"

"Is _this_ why you've been so 'blah' about Hojo?" demanded Eri. "Not to mention Inuyasha?!"

"Inuyasha?" Miroku quirked a brow. "Is there something going on between you and the delinquent?"

"NO!" Kagome shouted. "My friends think he's hot! It obviously hasn't penetrated through their heads that he's a murderer—" She stopped. Did she really believe that? She so wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt… after all, he was human. Well…sort of. She didn't like him all that much aside from his looks… but he just had this lost air around him…

"Let's just go," she muttered, going around the car to climb in the passenger seat. She'd leave her friends to come to their own conclusions. If she was lucky, they'd all go crazy with speculation before she returned home and she could purposely turn off her cell phone and stay offline, just to get them back.

"What was that all about?" Miroku asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Just get me to freaking juvy."

-

-

-

"Hello." Renkotsu listened carefully to the man on the other side of the line. "Ah… I see. You took care of him, naturally?... Yes, yes, we wouldn't want that to happen. Good work, Kuykotsu, you'll be rewarded." He placed the phone in the receiver and smiled sadistically. "Perhaps once Inuyasha Takahashi is told that his beloved lawyer is dead, he'll be content to stay in juvy for the duration of his sentence… or longer?"

Shichi tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Now… how to possibly convince the judges to extend his sentence?" He glanced down at the safe beneath his feet. "Actually, the more appropriate question would be: how much money will it take?"

-

-

-

Sango casually strolled down the corridors of the center, looking as if she had a destination. If you looked safe, confident, and moody, no one bothered you. It was only those inmates that jumped at the sound of a door closing or whose eyes shifted a mile a minute.

She nodded to the security guard and shoved her hands in the pockets of her pink scrubs. Pink. They _had _to give her pink. That was a higher indignity than being put in juvy in the first place.

_Kohaku…how are you doing? Is that monster of a woman hurting you? _She bit her lip as she pushed the door to the office open. _No, Sango, don't think about that._

Two surprised faces turned to look at her as she pushed the door open. Sango froze in the doorway, unsure of what to make of these two teens. The girl looked vaguely familiar; the guy she hadn't seen at all. But from the look in his eyes, she was certain she wouldn't want to run into him again.

"Hello," she said cautiously.

"Good afternoon," the girl replied cheerfully.

"He-e-ey," the guy said, stretching out the word as his eyes ran up and down her body.

She blanched and took a step backwards. _Oh no you didn't…_

"Are you all right?" the girl asked, her brown eyes wide with concern.

"Fine." Sango shot the guy an icy glare, hoping that he'd get the message to stay away.

He didn't. "My name is Miroku," he said, reaching for her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you—"

"Touch me and I will personally make sure you cannot reproduce," she said coldly. "_Capisce_"

His eyes widened in shock, although he recovered quickly. "Understood."

The girl was now looking at her companion with incredulity. "Miroku—is it possible for you to go a whole day without groping a female? Just one?"

"That's twenty-four _hours_," he replied seriously. "Don't you think that's a little cruel?"

"You spend at least eight hours sleeping!"

"And even then I get slapped; I never have pleasant dreams, only nightmares," he sighed.

"Hopeless," she muttered. "I apologize for his behavior—he has a severe lack of willpower. I think someday they'll make a special condition, named just for him."

Sango smiled tightly. "It's okay." At least the girl was friendly. Come to think of it, she hadn't acted arrogant or superior at all; Sango hadn't been treated like a normal person in days. It was a nice breath of fresh air, she realized.

Her eyes darted to the male, who was looking at her again. _I guess every silver lining has its cloud…_

The front door opened and the plump old secretary waddled in. "Good gracious," she groused, shuffling behind the counter. "I leave for five minutes and there's already a line of people. Miss Taijiya, what are you doing out of your cell? It's not recreation hour."

"I'd like to speak with the Director, please."

"You spoke with him yesterday."

"He said to come back today."

"Mr. Takahashi has an appointment today. You'll have to wait." She rubbed her forehead. "My word, the two of you are persistent. I think you'd drive the devil himself insane."

"The accusation's not far off," said Sango under her breath.

The girl giggled appreciatively. The lecher hid a smile behind his hand.

"And what do you two want?" the secretary snapped, focusing her beady eyes on the two teens.

"Um, I'm Kagome, remember? I'm here to volunteer—"

"Oh yes, that's right. Welcome to the juvenile reform center, enjoy your stay here, and all that shit."

Beside her, the guy named Miroku snorted.

"Sign in here." The secretary nearly threw a pen at Kagome, who fumbled to catch it. "Clipboard's hanging on the wall."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And you." She nodded at Miroku. "What're you here for, boy? Please don't tell me you're volunteering too—I'll have to kill myself."

"That would be a shame. No, I'm just the chauffer. I'll hang out in the waiting room until Kagome's done, if that's all right with you."

"Sorry, no loitering," she said immediately. "Go wait in the car."

"But…you said it was okay yesterday."

"That was yesterday. Things change. I have a migraine. You're annoying me. Go."

"I won't make any noise," he protested.

"Boy—"

The door from the hall banged open and a striking hanyou with piercing gold eyes walked in. Sango recollected seeing him once or twice at mealtimes.

"Yo, Witch," he said, strolling up to the counter. "I'm here to see the Director." He then noticed the girl named Kagome, who suddenly looked very nervous. "You again?" he demanded.

"Yeah, me again," she said defiantly, sticking out her chin.

He regarded her for a moment or two and then turned back to the secretary. "Is he ready?"

"Is…who ready?"

"The Director, dimwit."

_Rather rude_, Sango thought absently. She was busy trying to keep her distance from the lecher, who was watching the exchange with interest.

"He's having his lunch."

"But I made an appointment."

"And you shall have it—just a few minutes late."

"Look, lady, if someone as anal as the director schedules an appointment, I expect it to be kept—"

"Mr. Takahashi." The director stood in the doorway to his office. "You may come in now."

"Bout time." Without a backward glance, the hanyou ambled into the office.

The door closed.

The secretary sighed and turned to Sango. "You may as well leave; I doubt you'll be seeing the director today."

"But yesterday he told me to—"

"You really think he's going to be in the mood to see anyone after talking to that terror? Leave, Miss Taijiya. Miss Higurashi, your first task of the day will be to escort Miss Taijiya to her…literature class, is it?"

"If that's what you want to call it." _More like an incompetent teacher rambling about complete bullshit._

"Go on now." The secretary waved her hand towards the door.

Kagome stood awkwardly by the door. "Shall we…go then?"

"Whatever." Sango threw open the door and walked out into the hallway. She didn't need an escort, but as long as it made the girl feel useful…

Kagome trailed behind her a bit. "Um…my name's Kagome."

"I know."

Silence.

"What's your name?"

"Sango."

"That's pretty."

Sango grunted. They turned the corner.

"So…um… how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Really? I'm seventeen."

Sango didn't answer. Kagome was trying her best to be friendly and make conversation, but really, what did they have in common to talk about? Not school, not classes, not boys, not TV, not music… And if that girl asked what she was in here for, Sango thought she would backhand her.

To her credit, Kagome didn't ask.

Although…

"So, you have any siblings?"

Sango stopped at a dead halt. Kagome slammed into her back. "Are you okay—?"

"I have one brother," Sango said in a hushed voice, with her back still turned to Kagome. "Named Kohaku."

"Oh. I…"

"I _should_ be with him right now, taking _care_ of him, but instead I'm stuck in this _hellhole_ because some son-of-a-bitch tried to rape me and I killed him in self defense, only the judges are too stupid to see who the _real_ villains are around this town."

Kagome gulped. "I'm…sorry…"

"Not your fault," she grunted, resuming her original pace.

Kagome hesitantly trailed behind. "Is this…uh…does you brother have anything to do with…why you want to see the director?"

Sango tensed. "Maybe," she hedged. _Why is she so interested?_

"You want to see him don't you?"

"No, of course I don't," Sango said sarcastically.

Kagome would not be deterred. "Won't they let you call him? Maybe he could come during visiting hours—"

"That's what's killing me!" Sango whirled around. The two girls were standing in a hallway of half-empty cells. The occupants of the cells looked at the exchange with mild interest. "He doesn't know where the hell I am or what's happened to me! I stayed in a cell the night before my trial and then I was transported directly here. They wouldn't let me contact him. He's probably worrying his brains out, wondering why I haven't come to see him for over two weeks; that or he's lying on his bed, gasping for breath because the damn Foster Mother _beats_ her 'kids.'"

The only sound Kagome made was a sharp intake of breath. "That's…awful…" she finally said. "But can't you call him now?"

"Prisoners aren't allowed to make contact with the outside world," she said bitterly. "Only _they_ can come see _us._"

Kagome was silent for a minute, with a look of concentration on her face. "What if," she said slowly, "I found your brother for you and brought him here? Or at least explained to him what's going on?"

Sango stared at her. "How would you find him?"

"I can drive. Tell me where he lives—I'll relay a message to him. Or pick him up and drive him to visiting hours."

"You'd…do that?"

She shrugged. "More community service hours for me."

Sango got the distinct feeling that Kagome was playing things down. "I don't think you'd want to go to that neighborhood."

"I took a self-defense class."

Sango laughed derisively. "Right. I practiced my self-defense skills every day and look where I ended up."

"I'll bring my friend along; he's captain of the wrestling team."

"I'd feel better if he was the head of a street gang."

"He knows hand-to-hand combat."

"Does he have a gun?"

This gave her pause. "I can ask him…"

"Look, Kagome, I'm sure you mean well, but—"

"No. I want to do this. I have a little brother too, and I can't imagine not knowing if he's okay, or being helpless to protect him. Tell me where to find him."

She hesitated, but presently gave in to the determined look on Kagome's face. "It's in the bad part of town. The west side of the tracks."

"Okay."

_This girl is either a saint or an idiot._ Sango gave her directions to the foster home and the "Please, _please_ do not forget to bring your boyfriend," said Sango. "I don't think I could forgive myself if you got killed. Or worse."

"What's worse than being killed?"

_Lord, you are an innocent_. "Don't worry about it. Just…be careful."

"I will. Don't worry."

"Hey now…what's going on here?" A security guard appeared from around the corner and frowned in their direction.

"Escorting Sango back to her cell," Kagome said, giving the guard a smile. "At least, that's what the receptionist told me to do. Is that satisfactory?"

The guard shrugged stupidly. "If Miz Ursue told ya, I guess it's good."

Kagome looped her arm through Sango's. "Let's go, shall we?"

Sango managed a smile smile.

-

-

-

It was humiliation like Sango had never known to have Kagome lock her into a cell. A girl her own age. She'd never felt more like a delinquent.

"Guess this is it for today," said Kagome, giving Sango a smile. "I'll come and visit you tomorrow, okay? Hopefully the guards won't yell at me for talking."

Sango smiled wanly.

"I'll try and get your brother tomorrow after school. My friend's driving me here anyhow, so that'll kill two birds with one stone."

She only nodded this time.

"Well…bye!" Kagome waved and walked away.

Sango watched until she disappeared around the corner.

"Don't get your hopes up," she whispered to herself, resting her head against the barred door. _She means well, I'm sure…but she'll forget about her promise—the next time she comes, she'll apologize, again promise to try and find him…but nothing will actually be accomplished_._ Surely her mother won't willing let her go into that part of town._

She sighed and slid down into a sitting position, languidly gazing at nothing.

_I wonder why she was so nice to me?_

-

-

-

"I'm afraid I have some regretful news, Mr. Takahashi."

"Oh?" Inuyasha leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles. The girl—Kagome. She'd come back. _She must really need those hours._ Strangely, it comforted him to see that she came back. He scowled and forced her out of his mind. _Think about intimidating this bastard, not the girl_. "And what would that be?"

The director had pasted a forced frown on sympathy on his face. "Your lawyer, Mr. Myoga McCormick, passed away about a week ago. This would explain why he hadn't contacted you."

Inuyasha's chair crashed down on the floor. _"What?"_

"Heart attack. The old age and obesity got to him, would be my guess."

"Don't disrespect a dead man, you scum!" Inuyasha slammed his fist down on the director's desk, seething.

"No need to lose your temper, boy," the director said coolly. "People die; it's a natural part of life." His eyes gleamed evilly. "Or perhaps not so…_natural_…sometimes, no?"

"I will ignore that insinuation," Inuyasha said through gritted teeth. "Find me another lawyer."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Takahashi."

"And why not?"

"You and every other person in this center wants a lawyer to bust them out on some line in a legal code that was deceptively twisted and bent. There is a long line of inmates whose circumstances grant that the center can find them lawyers…but I don't see you getting one in the near future."

"You can't refuse to find me a lawyer."

"I'm not. I'm simply saying that I cannot, at the present time, find you one; and I suspect you do not have the funds to hire one, anyhow."

"Wanna bet? My half-brother is Sesshomaru Takahashi. He has money and influence."

"Naturally we will contact him regarding his attachment to you," he said smoothly, "but at the moment, Mr. Takahashi, all you can do is wait. I will send your condolences to Mr. McCormick."

"This is bullshit," Inuyasha growled.

"Welcome to jail, punk. Glad you've finally made it to reality."

-

-

-

Kagome paused her scrubbing when the door behind her banged rather forcibly. A pair of angry footsteps stopped just behind her. She swallowed and continued scrubbing the filthy drain in the middle of the concrete floor. She was suddenly thankful that she'd changed into jeans before coming here—for more reasons than one.

"Still here?" the voice behind her growled.

She stilled. "Inuyasha."

"What up," he said sarcastically. He leaned against the bars of the cell.

"N-not much," she said. "Is this your cell?"

"Hasn't changed since the day I got it." He looked down at her. "How come you're still here?"

"I need hours, remember?"

"You haven't gotten them all yet?"

"So I'm a slacker. Sue me."

"Only if you have a lawyer that you're sure won't croak on you."

"Huh?" She looked up at him.

He was scowling at his feet. "Damn…that's one I hadn't planned on…"

"Your lawyer died?"

"Yeah. There goes my chance of getting out of this place."

"Can't you get another one?" she tried. Honestly, she knew nothing about the logistics of hiring lawyers, but it was worth a try. As long as he wasn't insulting her…

"Could," he grumbled, "if my half-brother didn't hate me so much. He controls my bank account."

"Oh…"

He moved closer to her, seemingly…sniffing?

"H-hey," Kagome said, jumping to her feet. "What are you doing?"

"You smell like fresh air," he murmured. His golden eyes were fixated on her. Kagome stood stock still, unblinking, ready to defend herself if he tried anything.

Then he broke eye contact and pushed the door to his cell open, shutting the door behind him.

_That's…it?_ Kagome bit her lip. Where was the small kit that was usually in the cell? "Hey…" she ventured. "Where's that little kid?"

"The runt? Library, probably." He was lying on his cot, now, his eyes closed. "Go away. I'm tired."

Disheartened a bit, she shrugged and moved on her way. "See you tomorrow," she called as she moved down the hallway.

A small part of her wished that he would have stayed and talked to her longer. She'd made the acquaintance of that girl, Sango today—and as odd as this sounded, she hoped that the two of them could become friends. She didn't seem like a _bad_ girl; and talking to her could knock out a good chunk of time.

Inuyasha, on the other hand…he was just too closed off to the world. Kagome's mother had always called her a healer—Kagome tried her hardest to fix problems: both her own, and other's.

It looked as if it would take more than a small band-aid to heal Inuyasha's wounds, though… His eyes spoke of a hurt that went deeper than the surface.

She pulled the loose strands of hair away from her face, wishing she'd thought to put her hair up in a ponytail. Maybe with time he could open up to her…?

_Probably not_. She was only going to be volunteering another two-and-a-half weeks. That wasn't enough time to gain his trust and heal his wounds.

_Right, Kagome. And how were you planning to "heal" them? Just go home and take a nap._ She checked her watch. Officially, she still had three minutes left… but she figured it would take her that long to get to the parking lot anyhow.

-

-

-

He'd always hated his window. In his opinion, if he was going to be given a window cell at all, wouldn't it be better to have one that faced towards the back lot of the property that had actual greenery, rather than the stunning view of a dirty highway?

But now, he was oddly grateful for his window…

Inuyasha watched as the girl and her friend (her boyfriend, maybe?) walked out of juvy and into the parking lot. He smirked as she batted away the guy's wandering hands. _That's right, girl—give the perv what for_.

They climbed into the car parked nearest to the exit and drove away. Through the open window, he could see Kagome's hair flying around her face. _Midnight__ black hair that looks almost blue in the light. Like Kikyo's…was._

He quickly retreated from the window and returned to his cot, prepping himself for the stimulating activity of napping and lazing.

_I wonder if she'll be back tomorrow?_ he idly wondered as he tried to form pictures out of the water stains on the ceiling. The thought of seeing her again pleased him, but at the moment, he felt too lazy to try and figure out why.__

-

-

-

-

_Author's Notes:_ ah, the sleep I lose for my readers and my muse. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Sorry for the long wait. I work in a cycle, focusing on updating only one fic at a time—otherwise nothing would happen. Believe me. Thanks so much to all my reviewers—I love you all!!

**_Next time at juvy:_** Kagome and Miroku go to sneak Kohaku away from the evil clutches of the foster mother for an afternoon so he can visit his sister. The following day, Miroku, escaping the wrath of a PMS-ing secretary, hides out in the library…only to find that another person is taking refuge there as well. Will she castrate him for his lecherous ways, or will he be able to convince her that not all men are of the devil?


	6. Underlying Motives

**_Guilty As Charged_**

-

**Chapter Six:**

**UNDERLYING MOTIVES**

-

-

-

"Kagome, might I mention that we are on the _wrong_ side of town?"

"No we're not—she said to cross the tracks, turn at the second stoplight…" Kagome squinted at the scrap of paper she'd scribbled directions on. "At least, I _think_ that's what she said…"

"No, I mean this is bad. I'm pretty sure we're in the right place, but I'm just afraid we'll be jumped. Especially when they notice that my car is only two years old and both of us are dressed rather well."

Kagome looked down at her school uniform. "I hadn't thought of that… do you have any grungy clothes in your trunk or something?"

"Actually, yes, but they won't fit you."

"All the better." Stop at the nearest gas station and I'll change in the backseat."

"So all the bums can leer at you?" he said indignantly. "You can change while I'm driving. Look in my gym bag for something."

Kagome wrinkled her nose, but obeyed, climbing into the backseat. "You'd better not peek in the rearview mirror," she warned, "because if you do, we _will_ crash."

"Ah, but I'm an expert at multi-tasking."

"_Miroku_—"

He sighed woefully. "I'll keep my eyes on the road."

"And off the mirror?"

"What if I need to change lanes?"

Kagome gave him a _look_.

"Fine, I promise not to peek," he grumbled.

"Thank you." Kagome proceeded to pull several shirts and gym shorts out of his bag. "Urgh, these all smell like a locker room…"

"Big surprise there. At least you'll blend in, right?"

"Maybe you should dress as a pimp so you can blend in, hmmm? You'd feel right at home, anyways."

"Kagome, you wound me."

She finally selected a pair of navy blue gym shorts and a light blue tee-shirt (they were the ones that smelled the best out of her limited choices), struggling to change clothes while on the floor of a moving car.

"I'm lucky you're so skinny," she said as she climbed back into the front seat, "otherwise these shorts would have never fit me."

"Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure." She glanced outside the window. "Are we almost there?"

"Nearly. If I'm reading your handwriting correctly, two more lights and we'll turn right."

"Okay."

"Out of curiosity—" Miroku drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he braked at a red light—"how exactly are we going to get this boy out of the foster home and to juvy?"

"Honestly?" she said. "I have no idea."

"Great. So basically we're just doing this by ear?"

"Pretty much."

"That's not a very good plan."

"But it's the best we've got at the moment."

-

-

-

Inuyasha's ears perked up. Since the time he'd arrived at juvy, his already exceptional hearing had improved. When there was nothing to do but lie around the cell all day (save from his few school classes and recreation) his senses had over developed. He could now hear the human eight cells down coughing quietly, that persistent fly buzzing around Wimpy Wolf's cell, and the tapping of a foot against the metal leg of a cot.

But atop all that, the soft singing of the kit on the cot beside him made his ears twitch in pain.

"Oi," Inuyasha broke in, not able to stand it any more. God, as if he needed to hear another depressing song. And the kit did not have that great of a voice. The high-pitched screeching was making his eyebrow twitch. "What the hell are you singing?"

"It's called 'Greensleeves', you heathen," Shippo replied. "It was written by Henry VIII of England and made into the popular Christmas Carol—"

"It could've been written by Michael Jackson for all I care. Stop singing; it's annoying me."

"Do you have anything better to do?"

"Stare at the ceiling and make up stories about water stains?"

Shippo sat up on his cot, considering. "That's a good idea. Okay, I see a turtle crossing a stream of macaroni, trying to avoid a herd rampaging ostrich demons whose faces look strangely like yours…"

Inuyasha sighed. "Why do I even try?"

"Because you're too stupid to learn from your mistakes."

In a second Inuyasha had the kit pushed up against the wall, the little fox's arms and legs flailing in protest. "Hey! Lemme go!"

"You're such a bothersome little brat…would anyone miss you if I knocked you unconscious for a few hours or so?"

"Let me go!" Shippo looked up at him with fearsome eyes. "Don't hurt me—please! I promise I'll be good!"

Inuyasha felt a little bad. He wasn't going to hurt the kid; he'd just wanted to shake him up a bit. Looks like he'd done a better job than he'd planned.

"Eh, don't worry, kid, I'm just playin' with ya." He let Shippo drop down onto the bed. "You get scared too easily. I'll bet you freak at the sight of a spider."

"I do not!" Shippo flew at him, his fists pounding futilely at Inuyasha's chest. "Big meanie!"

"Oi." Inuyasha merely bushed the fox off of him. "What's your problem?"

Shippo was curled in a ball on the floor. "I am _not_ a 'fraidy-cat," he mumbled. "I'm _not_."

Inuyasha sighed and flopped back onto his cot. "This is why I'm never going to have kids," he muttered to himself. "What's got you so upset?" he directed to the huddled ball of nerves on the floor.

"I'm _not_ a 'fraidy-cat."

Obviously Inuyasha had touched a nerve. The kid wasn't able to say anything else. "Okay, you're not a 'fraidy-cat. I'm sorry to have called you one."

The kit looked up at him with large, tear-filled eyes. "I'm not."

"You're not."

"I'm _brave_."

"Whatever you say, kid."

"I am."

"Yes." Inuyasha became suspicious. Something wasn't right here…had the kid been abused before? He was no psychologist, but this kid needed help. God, he was probably safer here at juvy than wherever the hell he was before.

Inuyasha swore silently and awkwardly leaned down and pulled the kit off the floor, placing him on the center of his chest. The hanyou sighed and closed his eyes, hoping that a nap would block out the sniffles and sobs. As he drifted off to sleep, he felt the kid curl up on his chest, his hiccups causing reverberations across Inuyasha's body.

_Stupid kit…_

-

-

-

Kagome's mouth fell open as Miroku silently put the car into park. "_This_ is…?"

Miroku placed his hand comfortingly on her shoulder. "We can go back if you want. I'm sure Sango'd understand."

She swallowed and thought it over as her eyes took in the foster home. The place was no than a ramshackle two-story building that looked like it was built sometime in the 19th century that probably should have been condemned for razing long ago. A few kids wandered around the ill-kept yard, climbing on the old rusted car in the vacant lot, or playing with the tires strewn across the field. All of the surrounding houses looked as if a drug bust could be made any minute; Kagome half expected to see the random passerby draw a gun and point it at their car.

She looked down at herself, in Miroku's gym outfit. It looked ten times better than the clothes any of the kids in the yard were wearing. Miroku was still in his oxford shirt and nicely creased navy pants. "Miroku, maybe you should change…?"

"Nah—maybe if we look well-off, it'll give us more credibility."

"And maybe it'll get us shot!" she snapped. "Just change."

He shrugged and reached for the gym bag. "Whatever you say, Kagome dear; would you like to turn around, or does nudeness not bother you?"

"What do you mean 'nude'? Are you not wearing boxers?" she threw back, although she turned around just the same.

"Okay," said Miroku when he was done, decked out in a gym outfit similar to "Kagome's." "Let's go."

"Now we look like twins…or something. Reminds me of a kid's book where two siblings battle all hells to complete some type of mission."

"That's right, sis—come on, we've got a prince to rescue."

-

-

-

Miroku opened his door and stepped outside the car, waiting for Kagome to emerge as well. She did so a little more cautiously, but eventually placed her feet on the ground and closed the door. He hurriedly locked the car and looked over at her. "Well?"

She scrutinized the area around her. _God, this place is so…hopeless...we probably will get shot or something._ She involuntarily shivered. "Now or never, I guess."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and propelled her forwards. "The sooner we do this, the sooner we can leave."

They walked towards the dilapidated house, the dead grass making loud crunching noises beneath their feet. She noticed several kids huddled behind the back of the house, seemingly deep in conversation. Although somehow she didn't believe that was the case…

Beside her, Miroku suddenly stiffened. She looked over at him, only to find that he'd gone white as a sheet.

"Miroku? Are you okay?"

"Yup. Fine." His expression didn't change.

He was beginning to worry her. "Let's go back—we can get my mom or something to come with us—"

"No. It's fine." He grabbed Kagome's arm and steered her towards the back of the house—towards the slightly ajar back door.

"Miroku, what—?"

"Let's go this way."

"Just waltz into the house, uninvited? Do you have a death wish?"

"No…but this way there'll be no time to 'clean up' or fix things to look better."

She bit her lip. "You really think things are going to be that bad?"

He shrugged. "Hey, if you wanna do things right…" He stopped in mid-step, that blank, deer-in-the-headlights look coming over his face again.

"What now?" she said, a little irritated. Then she caught a whiff of something foul. "Ugh—what is that smell?

"Weed," he said hoarsely, his eyes never leaving the group of kids.

"What? But…they're so young!"

"Welcome to the ghetto."

Kagome swallowed hard. "Let's…let's get this over with."

Miroku nodded mutely.

Now she was getting worried about him. "Miroku, go back to the car. I can handle this by my—"

He grabbed Kagome's hand and hauled her inside the door.

The two of them stopped short at the sight of an obese women wielding a baseball bat and a young boy cowering on the floor, his cheeks stained with tears.

Kagome physically flinched and hid herself behind Miroku. Her stomach turned over and she swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down.

Miroku pulled in a breath. "Kohaku?"

The boy's eyes widened.

"Just who the fuck d'you think you are?" the woman snarled, dropping her bat to the ground. "I don't take kindly to trespassers!"

"I am…we are representatives from Goodwill."

"Who?"

"Goodwill. We volunteer at the juvenile reform center and just so happened to meet a nice young lady by the name of Sango."

The woman glared at them and began to inch towards the counter. "Is this supposed to mean something to me?"

"S-sango?" Kohaku whispered, his hands still covering his head.

Miroku crossed the room in two strides and kneeled down beside the boy. "Yes, I met your sister," he said. Kagome was surprised at the emotion in his voice. "She misses you very much and asked us to see if we could take you to see her."

A visible look of fear splayed across the boy's face. "No—!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Kagome saw various emotions of hate splay across the woman's face and the arm holding the baseball bat suddenly raise.

_Oh my god—_

She didn't even think.

-

-

-

Miroku was suddenly shoved aside and he hit the ground in an awkward position. Wheezing, he sat up, taking in the scene before him.

Kagome was defiantly clutching the baseball bat to her chest and lunging in front of Kohaku. "Don't you dare raise a hand against my friend," she snarled.

"I can do whatever I want, girlie. You're on my property, trying to meddle with my affairs: the law's on _my_ side. You two thought you could just sashay in here and take this boy away? How do I know who you are? How do I know you're not gonna kidnap him?"

"How can we live easy knowing you're abusing him?" she snapped back.

Miroku was amused at her sudden violence. Clearly Kagome went into hyper-defensive mode when she was frightened.

"Who says I'm abusing him?"

Kagome looked pointedly at the bat.

The woman shrugged unashamedly. "You got no proof. We were gonna play baseball, is all." Her expression changed. "Now get the hell off my property before I call the police on y'all."

Kagome opened her mouth, but Miroku quickly got to his feet and took her arm. "Sorry to have bothered you, ma'am."

"Mir—"

He ushered her outside the door and dragged her to the car. "Get in," he commanded, slamming the door behind him.

Kagome didn't move. "Without Kohaku? We can't just leave him here with that awful woman—"

"It was a stupid plan, Kagome. I don't know what I was thinking… that the landlady would be all 'sure, let him visit his sister! No problem!'? She's right; we don't have legal rights to be on her property."

"But Sango—"

"Will understand. Hopefully."

"No she won't! She'd tell us to drag him out of there, fighting tooth and nail—"

"She'd be wrong," he said firmly. "Get in the car."

Kagome frowned but complied. "Only because I'm afraid of staying here any longer."

"With good reason." He pulled out of the lot at breakneck speed and was back in the "good" part of town within minutes.

"Now what?" she asked tiredly.

"We talk to the secretary lady about the legal grounds of bringing Kohaku to see Sango. I have a feeling there's an amendment or rule somewhere that would allow family members that are minors to be taken to visit juvy."

"You're going into law, aren't you."

"Yep."

"That figures."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Miroku smiled and they fell silent. He was still breathing heavily… not from nearly being beaned by a baseball bat, but from seeing those boys. He'd never felt guilty for peddling pot before… he needed extra money badly, and that was a quick way to do it, but he'd never actually _seen_ the effects before.

Those kids would be mentally deranged before they reached puberty.

_Damn it_. He ran a hand through his hair, causing his ponytail holder to fall out. "Shit—find that for me, will you, Kagome?"

She gave him an incredulous look. "Yes, Milord Potty-mouth. Find _what_ for you?"

"My…thing."

"Your thing."

"My rubber band."

She raised an eyebrow. "You can live without it for one afternoon, can't you?"

"My head feels so heavy…"

"Crybaby. Your hair looks fine; leave it that way."

"Why, thank you."

"That wasn't intended to be an ego-inflator."

He winked at her and pulled into the juvy parking lot. The guard knew them by now and merely waved. "We're here."

She sighed. "What are we going to tell Sango?"

"Hopefully we won't see her until after we have a plan…" He pushed all thoughts of the pot-smoking boys and the fiery sister of Kohaku out of his mind. "You just focus on getting those community service hours. Leave the rest to me."

-

-

-

"Inuyasha."

"What, kit."

"How are babies born?"

Inuyasha choked. "What?!"

"I really don't believe that storks bring babies like my foster parents said… how would storks know to make the baby look like its parents? And why would it be so stupid to make it _not_ look like its daddy and then make the whole household go to pieces?"

"Erm…" _How the hell did I get stuck with this?!_ "Maybe God makes the babies and the stork just delivers them."

Shippo gave him a look. "Does it look like I was born yesterday?"

"I _do_ recall seeing a stork hovering by our window…"

"Come on, Inuyasha, just _tell_ me!"

"Since when were the paternal duties heaped upon _me_?" he complained.

"C'mon, c'mon, I wanna know!" Shippo bounced on Inuyasha's cot… or as much as someone _could_ bounce on the pathetic excuse for a mattress.

"There's a surprise."

"It's your innocence." He sighed and stretched out on his mattress. He had nothing better to do, anyhow. "Chapter One," he intoned, "'The Birds and the Bees.'"

-

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-

"Welcome to… oh, it's you." The secretary's fake smile immediately disappeared and she bent over her calendar again.

Kagome looked at Miroku in amusement. "I'm just checking in."

"'Kay." She didn't look up.

"I'll be done in two hours," she whispered to Miroku. "Find out about breakin' out Kohaku, okay?"

He nodded. As Kagome walked into the hallway, he turned to the secretary. "Out of curiosity… are there any laws protecting siblings of juvenile delinquents who are orphans and are being abused in foster homes?"

The secretary gave him a look. "You even have to ask? An orphan is completely under the supervision of the foster parent. A sibling in juvy doesn't change anything. A sibling in the hospital doesn't change anything, either."

Damn. Even worse than he thought. "So, theoretically, two teenagers would have no way of transporting a younger sibling to visit a sister at juvy without the foster parent's permission?"

"Naturally."

He ran a hand through his hair again. "So…what exactly are the consequences for that?"

"If you're caught? Kidnapping. Jail. Are you really that desperate to come join us, boy?"

He started. Was that actually a twinkle in her eye?

"What if the two teenagers couldn't be identified?"

The secretary shrugged. "Nothing would happen. But that's a dangerous risk to take, boy. Now matter how attracted you are to Miss Sango, stealing her brother away in the middle of the night could land you in serious trouble. Then you could kiss your dreams of Law School goodbye."

Miroku's eyes widened and visibly started. "How—?"

"I am not an inanimate object with no eyes and ears. After sitting behind this desk for twenty years reading romance novels while no one's looking, I've become adept at reading people."

He peered over the desk and noticed the worn novel shoved between the computer and the wall. "Ah."

"My advice? Don't do anything rash. At least until Sango gets herself a good lawyer. And get the hell out of the waiting room before I throw you out myself."

"What am I supposed to do, sit in the car for two hours?"

"Ever heard of napping? Or go to something useful and help the librarian sort books—there was a youkai brawl in there the other day and now the place looks like a hurricane of books flew through."

He groaned. "Why can't I just stay in h—"

"Because you're annoying me. And I want to finish this book." She waved the trashy romance novel in his face. "And unless you want me to read it out loud, I'd suggest you get out of here."

-

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-

Sango wandered up and down the aisles of the library—or at least the piles of books heaped in the far corner of the room—scrutinizing the books carefully. One of her teachers had nearly broken down into tears after a class full of rambunctious, cursing delinquents, so Sango had remained after class to clean up the room. Really, she just hadn't wanted to return to another boring afternoon of sitting in her cell, but the teacher's tears of despair had turned to tears of joy and she'd smothered Sango in a bone-crushing hug, telling her that she could go to the library and pick out _any_ book she wanted and keep it for a week.

Sango thought she would die of happiness.

Now she was intent on finding the biggest book in the library. She read rather quickly, which she now saw as a curse rather than a blessing, but she had no qualms about reading a book more than once. Plus, a boring book would take her twice as long to read.

_I wonder if they have _War and Peaceshe thought. _That would probably take me a month to read._ "Yeah, and put me to sleep in the process," she said aloud. _Long books, long books… _"_The Count of Monte Cristo _is long, right? And that Tolstoy book_… Anna Katrina_?" she muttered to herself.

"I believe the title you're looking for is _Anna Karenina_."

She jumped and found herself face-to-face with that friend of Kagome's. He was smiling at her, his purple eyes shining. "Um…yeah…that."

"Sango, right?"

"Yes." She resumed her perusal of the books, searching for Tolstoy. "They couldn't have knocked down each shelf down systematically?" she muttered.

"Youkai brawls are rarely methodical," he said.

She shot him a look. "Well, aren't you Mister Sarcasm today," she murmured, not really upset. As long as he left her alone, she really had no problem with him. She could forgive a lewd look or two—he was a horny high-school boy after all; his hormones were all out of whack—as long as he didn't try anything else…

"Could you possibly tell me where I can find the librarian?"

She shrugged. "No idea. I'll worry about that once I actually find the book I'm looking for."

"You mean this one right here?" He held out a book bearing the title _Anna Karenina_ on the spine in faded gold lettering.

"Oh…thanks…" She took the book and tucked it under her arm. "Now to find that librarian…" She wandered out of the aisle and out into the open room, looking for a scowling person with a staff nametag.

"Are you mad at me?" He'd followed her out of the aisle.

"You? No. Why?"

"You seem rather distant."

"I don't normally make a point of drumming up conversation with strangers."

"Don't you remember me?"

"Sure. You're Kagome's friend that gave me a rather purposeful once-over in the waiting room. Thankfully you hadn't done anything more, or you would be seriously hurting right now."

"Excuse me for having eyes."

"You could at least _try_ to control your primitive male instincts."

"That's like asking you to try to not flaunt your assets."

Sango stopped short and slowly turned, her eyes full of murderous rage.

Miroku winced. Wrong thing to say…?

"I do _not_ flaunt my _ass-ets_," she hissed. "You pig."

"S-sorry—"

"No, you're not. You're a male: you're all the same." She huffed and stalked away.

"Hey—wait—Sango!" He caught up to her. "Don't be like that."

She shrugged his hand off her shoulder. "I love it how you guys think it's the _girl's_ fault for your lustful actions. Here I am wearing _pink_ _scrubs_ and you claim I'm 'flaunting my assets.'"

"Like women are any better—gong to the mall just to ogle men. I know many, many friends that have had their hearts broken by girls who went out with them on flings. And you—you don't even know my name, do you?"

She gave him a look. "I deliberately do not use it. _Miroku_."

"Why not?" He said oh-so intelligently.

"It's like naming a stray puppy…one you start using a name, you become attached."

Miroku laughed incredulously. "Lord, woman, you're bitter."

"And I have every damn right to be!" she nearly shouted.

"What's going on here?" a new voice joined the conversation.

Miroku jumped guiltily, but Sango merely regarded the woman with a bored look. "Are you the librarian?" she asked.

"Yes, and my library is in enough chaos without you two hooligans adding to it." She gave Miroku a hard look. "Who are you? Why aren't you in your uniform?"

"I'm a volunteer, ma'am," he hurriedly replied, not too happy at being mistaken for an inmate.

"And you volunteer by fighting with the inmates, is that it?" she huffed, her frizzy gray hair bobbing up and down every time she took a breath. "Go on back to your cell, Sango—I need to be able to clean this place in peace."

"But I want to check out this book."

The librarian grabbed the book and scribbled a date on the title page with a pen she'd pulled from behind her ear. "There. Now go. No—wait. Boy: you're a volunteer. Be a gentleman and escort this young lady back to her cell."

"I can find my room by myself!" Sango snapped, refusing to look at Miroku.

"I'm certain you can, sweetheart, but I don't want this strange boy lurking around in my library." She eyed Miroku suspiciously and began to shove them out the door. "There you go now, that's a good boy. Goodbye Sango, dear, come back whenever you'd like—when this place is back in order, that is."

"Bye," she echoed dully.

"Goodbye…?" Miroku added in, still rather disoriented.

The door to the library resolutely closed behind them, and they found themselves in a silent, sanitary hallway that led out to the rows of cells.

Sango turned on her heel and began to walk away. "I really can find my room by myself."

"I know you can," said Miroku, hurrying to catch up to her. "But I have no idea where I'm going."

"Well that's your problem, isn't it?" she retorted, although she slowed down a bit to allow him to catch up. "Some volunteer you are."

"I'm actually just the chaperone/chauffer… the secretary kicked me out of the front office."

"Ah. That explains it then."

"I think she was just mad at me badgering her about legal activities," he grumbled. "She didn't mind me hanging around in there before, she just didn't want to have anything to do with the foster home bust because she doesn't want a lawsuit hanging over her head—"

Sango's head turned so fast he was afraid she'd gotten whiplash. "Foster home bust?"

"Erm…" He focused his eyes straight ahead. _That was brilliant, Miroku. Way to leak information. And you're planning to become a lawyer?_

"You've seen my brother haven't you?" She grabbed ahold of his chin and forced his eyes to meet hers. "_Haven't you?_"

"…Yes."

"And...?!"

He sighed and gently placed his hands on her arms, realizing that she wouldn't leave him alone until he'd told her the truth. "I'm sorry, Sango, but nothing came of this visit."

She impatiently brushed his hands aside. "What do you mean? Wouldn't the foster mother let him visit?"

"She exploded at the idea; she called us trespassers and said that only _she _would be able to give him permission to leave."

"Bitch," said Sango vehemently. "Abusive whore. She wouldn't be fit to run an animal shelter."

Miroku's stomach turned. "So she does abuse them—the kids, that is."

"Why do you think I fought so hard to get him out of that place? I'm eighteen—a legal adult! _I_ should have control of him, I should be able to take care of him—" She cut off abruptly and spun around, breathing hard.

She was crying. Miroku shifted uncomfortably. Something told him she wouldn't take kindly to him trying to comfort her… but he couldn't just _stand_ here and let her grieve like that.

"Hey," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him. "It's okay—both Kagome and I are working to get him out of there. I'm looking for every loophole possible."

She pulled away from him, shaking her head. "I know you mean well…"

"But?"

"You both are going to graduate soon, right? This is just a way to get community service hours. I'm not disillusioned; once the next month is over, you two will never return here. If nothing happens before then…"

She thought they'd abandon her. And why not? That's what people would normally do.

"I'm planning to become a lawyer," he said suddenly. "This is good practice for me. If this isn't resolved by the time we leave for college, I assure you my professors would love to hear I'm getting 'hands on' experience." He gave her a small smile. "I won't desert you now that I'm involved… Sango."

She regarded him seriously, searching his face for any signs of lying. He kept his face neutral, letting her see that he was completely serious.

_She's… actually very pretty_, he thought in surprise. _Her hair is gorgeous and I could get lose in those eyes. I'm sure if she actually smiled, her face would light up. It's just hard to tell when she's scowling all the time like that—_

Her face suddenly broke into a genuine smell, and Miroku's breath was momentarily taken away.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, her entire demeanor becoming more relaxed. "I think I should go back to my room now, or they'll send the police after me." She threw him another beaming smile, and disappeared around the corner. "Take a left and continue down the hallway and you're bound to run into Kagome," her voice floated around the corner.

"Thanks," he called back, following her instructions, his head still in a cloud.

_I promise you, Sango—I'll do anything to get your brother back for you._

-

-

-

"So then the man and the woman—they—ewww…" Shippo covered his eyes and began to bang his head against the wall. "Bad…images… gross, Inuyasha, why'd you have to tell me?!"

"Because you were begging your little ass off for it!" he huffed. "I've done you a favor, kid; now if your foster parents try to give you the abridged and awkward version of the talk, you can proudly tell them that you know everything you need to know. And more."

"Much more," he said hollowly, resuming his head banging. "I'll never look at two people the same way again."

"Are you okay…?" another voice said.

The two males in the cell swung their heads to look at the young woman standing in front of the door. "What are you doing?" Kagome asked, staring at Shippo.

The kit looked at Kagome, and then at Inuyasha. His face turned beet read and he started banging his head more frantically. "Ew—ew—ew—"

Kagome sent Inuyasha a strange look. "What did you do to him?"

He shrugged. "Nothin'."

"Right…" She held up her pail and sponge. "They've relegated me to scrubbing again. Um—could you let me inside your cell so I can clean?"

"Why don't do you another first?"

"I've already done six already—yours is next in line. I promise, it's not a conspiracy against you."

"If you say so," he grumbled. "Come on in—_you_ have the power to unlock the doors."

"Oh. Right." She placed her hand on the lock, but hesitated for a minute, remembering the last time she'd tried to clean in his cell.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "I promise I won't assault you or rape you or do naughty things to you. In fact, just for your peace of mind—and my sanity—I'll go to sleep." He rolled over on his side and did just that.

Not any more at ease, Kagome reluctantly entered the cell. "Shippo, please stop banging your head against the wall. You'll permanently damage your brain."

"Good, that's what I'm going for." Although he did pull away from the wall, his eyes slightly crossed.

Kagome smiled a little at his face and got down on her hands and knees. "Why were you banging your head?"

"Inuyasha told me about the 'birds and the bees.'"

She startled and sent a look towards his "sleeping" profile. "Did he really."

"Yeah… spared _no_ detail." Shippo shivered. "Ew. Ew.

"Inuyasha, what are you filling this child's mind with?" she asked. He didn't answer, although his ears were twitching suspiciously.

Having finished scrubbing one corner she scooted back a bit and scrubbed the spot where she'd just been kneeling. _So glad I didn't wear my skirt today_.

As if reading her thoughts, Shippo suddenly piped up, "Where's your skirt, Kagome? Don't you come straight from school in your uniform?"

She was surprised he'd noticed. Maybe male denseness only increased with age. "I was tired of trying to maneuver in a skirt," she explained, "so I put on something of my friends. That's why these shorts are practically falling down."

"Your boy friend?"

"Er… my friend. The boy. Yes."

"Are you dating?" Shippo's mind apparently reached another thread from that question and his face went red again. "Never mind. I don't wanna know."

Kagome began to blush a bit as well. "No, we're not dating. He's just my ride here."

"Sure he is," Inuyasha said.

"Hah! I _knew_ you weren't sleeping!" Shippo crowed gleefully. "You were listening to us, weren't ya? Huh?"

"Impossible to sleep with you two babbling on like that," he mumbled, abandoning all pretense of sleep and turning over to look at them. "And you coulda fooled me—a guy like that doesn't just want _friendship_."

Kagome frowned at him and scrubbed harder. "Not every guy is obsessed with sex, Inuyasha." _Lie, lie, lie._

He snorted. "You're kidding, right? That 'friend' of yours literally reeks of lust."

"Hey! Don't insult my friends like that!" _Though what he said is right on the money…_

"You're defending him?"

"He's my friend! I don't let people talk bad about my friends!"

"Whatever works for you," he smirked.

"Kagome!" Miroku's voice echoed down the hallway.

_Oh no…what now?_

Inuyasha and Shippo looked at her expectantly.

"Kagome—" Miroku skidded to a stop in front of Inuyasha and Shippo's cell and ran in. "Kagome! It just hit me!" He grabbed her hands and hauled her to her feet. "What if the director intervened on Sango's behalf? That foster mother couldn't refuse if he persuaded her to let Kohaku come here for an afternoon!"

"And just what would make the Director agree to this?" She glanced at Inuyasha, who was looking rather murderous. "The Director does not help people out of the kindness of his heart."

"Which is why we get dear Principal Johnston to help us. The two seem rather close, haven't you noticed? Maybe they were lovers once, I don't know. But if we rave about how much this juvy experience has touched our hearts and how we _so_ want to help this poor girl and her brother, how can she refuse?"

Kagome sighed. "You do the smooth talking, Miroku; I'll just stand off to the side and back you up."

"Thank you, Kagome!" He pulled her into a tight hug.

"And just why does this mean so much to you?" she asked.

"Maybe I feel sorry for Sango and her brother?"

"I think this has more to do with Sango than her brother," she muttered.

"Hey, now—"

"Eeep!" Kagome pushed Miroku away and glared. "Don't touch my ass, moron!"

"Like I said—" Inuyasha drawled.

"And I don't need any comments from _you_, mister!" she said, whirling around to turn her glare on Inuyasha.

He blinked at her lazily. "Whatcha gonna do about it?"

"I'll never clean your cell again, for starters."

"Sounds good to me."

"Inuyasha, stop acting so jealous," said Shippo.

"Who's jealous?!" he snarled.

"Don't try to pull _that_ one on me after having just explained the facts of life!"

While Inuyasha spluttered, Miroku stealthily slipped out of the cell. "Meet you in the lobby," he said aside to Kagome.

She nodded and resumed her scrubbing, not going anywhere near Inuyasha.

"Oi, bitch, aren't you done yet?"

"Nearly," she said, her words clipped. "There." She sat back on her heels and threw the sponge back in the pail. "You're so unappreciative, I don't know why I even try."

"Keh, I never asked you to come clean—the cell's fine."

"Unfortunately for you, I still need a heck of a lot of hours to get, so deal with it." She stood and jerked the bucket up, causing the water to slosh over the edge and splash her legs. "Aw… gross…"

"Look what you did," Shippo said to Inuyasha, sighing.

"How is that _my_ fault?"

"Never mind," Kagome said wearily, her head aching. "See you guys tomorrow." She exited the cell, feeling like she'd regressed in her progress with Inuyasha. She laughed jadedly. "And you hoped that you could eventually be friends with him?" she murmured. "Nice to know you're living in reality, Kagome."

She pushed open the door of the next cell and entered, sighed, preparing to scrub.

She checked her watch and realized she'd only been here an hour.

It was going to be one of those days…

-

-

-

"Why do you go out of your way to be mean to her, Inuyasha?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"Any other female that walks by you just ignore—but with her, you make a point of being nasty and rude. Why? Is it because she looks like Kikyo?"

"I told you not to talk about her!"

"Are you really so superficial that you'd punish an innocent girl for merely _looking _like the one that caused you so much pain?"

"That's not it at all," he huffed, leaning against the cold stone wall. "Give it up; Dr. Phil you're not."

"Or maybe it's because you like her?"

He laughed humorlessly. "Right, that's it. Good one." His gold eyes hardened and he stared out the window. "Women are nothing but deceitful, simpering, heart-breakers."

"You don't really believe that."

"How would you know what I do and don't believe?" he snapped.

Shippo looked at him, unaffected by his anger. "Because otherwise you wouldn't care so much about Kikyo. That's it, isn't it? You can't forget her—and that's what drives you insane. And this girl Kagome reminds you so much of her that you're in a constant state of hurt."

Inuyasha's chest lifted and fell. He didn't look away from the window. "Maybe," he murmured.

Shippo bounced onto his cot and leaned against the wall as well. Inuyasha was hurting more than anyone realized… and now he was beginning to doubt that even Kagome could heal those wounds.

-

-

-

Tired and sore, Kagome trudged back down the hallway, her bucket filled with water so disgustingly dirty that she couldn't even see the sponge anymore. She'd been here for exactly two hours and seven minutes, and she was ready to go _home_.

As she passed Inuyasha and Shippo's cell, she kept her eyes straight ahead, willing herself not to let them slide to the side—

Oops.

She slowed a bit, taking in the scene with confusion. Inuyasha was just… sitting there, staring out the window at nothing in particular. Shippo was curled up at the head of his cot, sleeping soundly.

But the hanyou boy looked so… _sad_…

She gently set the bucket down on the ground and opened the cell door. "I-Inuyasha?" she called softly.

When he didn't respond, she pulled the door open a little wider and slipped inside. "Hey… are you okay?"

He didn't even look her way. Not even to make a snide remark.

Frowning a bit, she made her way over to the cot and sat down next to him (but making certain to leave a good amount of space between them). "What's the matter?"

He still didn't move. "Did… did I upset you?"

After a moment, he shook his head.

"Oh, good," she said with relief, feeling like a fool for talking to someone that wasn't responding. "Then what's bothering you?"

"Nothing," he said shortly, still not turning around.

She bit the inside of her lip and reached out, laying her hand on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch. "It's okay to talk about it," she said, "whatever _it_ is. I'm willing to listen—"

He brusquely pushed her hand off his shoulder. "I said it's _nothing_, dammit—" He stopped at her quick intake of breath and quickly turned around, wondering what had frightened her.

He'd cut her hand with his sharp nails. The palm was already bleeding. "Hell," he muttered darkly, taking her hand and pressing his thumb onto the wound. "You humans are so fragile."

"Well excuse me," she muttered sarcastically. Great, one more thing to add to her bad day.

"Just a bit of pressure and it'll stop bleeding." He hesitantly met her eyes, a guilty look on his face. "Um… sorry…"

Her eyes widened, but she composed herself quickly. "That's… okay. Don't worry about it."

"Never mean to hurt anyone," he was saying to himself. "But it always ends up happening anyways. Then it's my fault. Go figure."

The pressure of his hand on hers was making it difficult to breathe. Being near him made Kagome realize how… _masculine_ he was—his half demon strength apparent through his muscles and strong hands.

"I'm sure you don't mean to," she said lamely.

"Not most of the time, anyway," he said ironically. "Being cooped up in this stupid box drives me crazy—it'd drive you crazy too."

"Yeah… I'm sure it would…" She felt guilty now, aware of the inadequacy of her words. She didn't really know what it was like—and personally, she didn't want to. _I really am a hypocrite_, she thought._ All I want to do is leave this place and never come back—and yet I'm claiming to want to help him? Do I really believe he's innocent? I still harbor some thoughts that he's guilty… I mean, why else would he be thrown in here?_

_There have been cases where the law was derelict,_ she reminded herself. _You _don't_ know the full story, so you're in no place to judge._

"Don't think so hard—you'll hurt your brain."

Kagome's head snapped up, ready to snap off an indignant reply, but caught the teasing glint in Inuyasha's eye. "If I were smart, I'd take that advice."

"Unfortunately, you fiery, independent girls never listen to the voice of reason." He smirked and her hand. "There—the bleeding's stopped."

She looked down at her hand in surprise, mildly surprised that he'd known what to do. "Thanks."

"Yeah. Now get out of here—I'm tired."

"Since sitting in a cell all day is so strenuous," she returned, though her smile took the sting out of her words.

He gave her a glimmer of a smile and promptly closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.

Kagome quietly slipped out of the cell, feeling better than she had all day—even though she hadn't discovered what was bothering him.

She smiled to herself and walked a little taller. No matter—she'd elicited a smile from him. From _Inuyasha_. A smile.

A giggle escaped her as she deposited the cleaning supplies into the hallway closet. She needed to get _out_ of here—two hours and fifteen minutes (plus one cut and some serious heart-skipping) was enough for one day.

-

-

-

_Author's Notes:_ Mwahaha, finished! Aren't you proud of me? I braved AP homework, band stress, and holiday homework to bring you this next installment of _Guilty As Charged_. Hope you enjoyed the chapter—please tell me what you thought of it. Thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed!! I love you guys so much! Sorry for the long wait and any careless mistakes... I'm not even supposed to be online right now, so you understand my time demand, right? Review! Ja!


	7. One Small Step

**_Guilty As Charged_**

**Chapter Seven:**

**ONE SMALL STEP

* * *

**

Kagome glanced at her watch for the thousandth time that minute. What was taking Miroku so long? Shouldn't he be done talking to Principal Johnston yet? It didn't take _half a freaking hour_ to ask for permission to bust a kid out of an abusive foster home so he could go see his sister in a juvenile delinquent center…

… or maybe she _was_ too impatient.

Kagome swung her legs back and forth, watching her shoes as they whizzed through the air. This was her precious lunch hour she was missing. _Miroku better not be blabbering in lawyer-speak just for the sake of improving his skills—five more minutes before the bell rings._

"How long are you going to sit there, child?" the secretary asked her.

Kagome shrugged. "Until Miroku comes out of that office. And that's not going to happen until he gets what he wants." Realizing how her words must sound, she quickly added, "He's trying to get permission to help a girl at juvy by—uh… yeah…"

Open mouth, insert foot.

The secretary looked at her suspiciously with her one good eye. Kagome always wondered what had happened to the other one and why she had to wear an eye-patch over it. "Do you enjoy working at the delinquent center?"

"Enjoy?" _I wouldn't exactly use that word…_ "Sure, I like it all right."

"You've had no trouble with the inmates?"

"Not really… why?" 'Lady Kaede' had never spoken more than three words to her before; why was she so talkative now?

"Several parents heard about your… expedition to the delinquent center and protested against the school sending students into such a place."

"What do they care?" scoffed Kagome. "It's not their children going there—and I can take care of myself."

"It became more of an issue when…Inuyasha—was thrown into the slammer."

The secretary's lip curled slightly as she spoke the boy's name.

"He's not so bad," Kagome found herself saying. "I mean he is rude and short-tempered, but he's really just hurting… I think he loved Kikyo a lot."

"Enough to kill her, eh?" the secretary said, giving Kagome a suspicious look. "Don't tell me you're falling for him too."

"Uh… _too_?"

'Just like my niece. Was won over by sweet talk and his _hurting heart_. She had a savior complex—just like you do, I suspect. Funny that you two look so much alike."

"Your niece? You mean… _Kikyo?_"

The secretary ignored her. "Don't let yourself be pulled in by his charms, child."

She snorted. "What charms? A bullfrog has more charm. And what do you mean by 'savior complex'?"

The secretary just eyed her and sighed. "Just like my niece…"

"So do you think… Inuyasha is guilty?"

"What I believe is irrelevant." The woman shuffled through a stack of papers, expertly filing them in the cabinet beside her desk.

"But since Kikyo—"

The door to Principal Johnston's office banged open and a rather smug Miroku strolled out into the office. He shot Kagome one of his classic "heartbreaker" grins and wrapped her in a hug. "I've done it, Kagome! We're good to go!"

"That's…great, Miroku," she said, forcing a smile onto her face. He had the worst timing of anyone she'd known. She shrugged out of his casual embrace and turned to ask the secretary her question—but "Lady Kaede" was already yelling at a parent through the phone.

Miroku was tugging at her arm. "Come on," he said, "we'll be late for class."

_Yeah, now's a great time to remember that. _Blowing out a frustrated breath, Kagome allowed him to lead her out of the office. She cast a glance back at the secretary, who was now fervently filling out paperwork. "Did you know Kikyo was her niece?"

"Huh?" A puzzled look crossed Miroku's face. "Kikyo was whose niece?"

"The secretary. Lady Kaede."

His eyebrows flew upward. "The prostitute Kikyo who Inuyasha murdered? Kaede's _niece_?"

"I think so. She didn't deny it."

"Geez," he murmured, "no wonder she's such a moody hag. I would be too."

"Miroku—" she halfheartedly scolded him.

"I wasn't trying to be rude; I was just stating the truth. And the truth is, if a member of my family had been murdered, I would've been wishing for the killer's death."

The word _death_ resonated in Kagome's head and her breath caught in her throat. "But we don't really know if Inuyasha's guilty," she said quickly. "I mean, judges do make mistakes."

Miroku shrugged. "Sure they do… but if it was my niece that was murdered, I'd be out for blood." He glanced back at the closed office door. "Makes you feel kinda bad for the lady."

Kagome said nothing. She was rather concerned that she felt sorrier for Inuyasha than she did Kaede. She bit her lip before absently waving goodbye to Miroku, who had class in a different hallway.

She was becoming too attached to Inuyasha. She felt _protective_ of him—and she was actually looking forward to seeing him this afternoon.

_Don't think like that!_ God, she sounded as if she had a crush on him.

Kagome snorted out loud at the thought of her mother. _Hey, Mom can I go on a date this weekend? 'Sure sweetie, where to?' Oh, just the juvy library. Inuyasha thought it'd be nice if we had a light dinner in his cell and then read some intellectual books together._

Right.

She pushed the door to her Physics class open with more force than necessary, causing it to slam against the wall with a sharp _bang_.

Twenty-seven pairs of eyes turned to stare at her.

"Oh, Kagome," her teacher chirped, "I'm so glad you came to school today. I was afraid you were sick or something… the elementary school head of department wants to you talk to the 1st through 3rd graders about your serving experience."

"My… serving experience?" Kagome drew a complete blank. "Pardon?"

"She wants to you talk to the children about serving in the community, about the importance of helping others." Her teacher beamed. "And I said there was no better candidate than you!"

Maybe it was the lack of sleep. Maybe it was worry over Inuyasha, over Sango, over how much more complicated her life had become in the past few weeks. "What exactly am I supposed to talk to these kids about?" she asked tiredly, rubbing her eyes. "Am I supposed to just give some patriotic 'Miss America'-type speech?"

"Indeed not," her teacher sniffed, "you will talk about how you bravely went into the juvenile correction center and lent your aid to those poor, suffering souls."

The trap snapped shut.

"Uh…" was all Kagome could think of to say.

"Hurry along, dear, you'll be late," the teacher said, still smiling. "Room 124, down in the 1st grade section. Thanks so much!" She leaped off her stool and shooed Kagome out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Kagome's feet started to move automatically towards the elementary section of the school. _What just happened?

* * *

_

Sango watched as the rain streamed down the window in rivulets of transparent blue. She made a game out of the rain, keeping track of which waterfall "won" the race by making it to the bottom of the window first.

_I wonder what Kohaku's doing right now…_ She mentally slapped herself for thinking about him. _Don't get your hopes up. _

Although Miroku _had_ promised…

_No, not Miroku. That boy. Name him and you'll start getting attached_.

She jiggled her foot and let on leg slip off the side of her cot. She was bored. Incredibly bored. There was absolutely nothing to do in this place… she'd already read _Anna Karenina_ twice and was halfway through it now. She was absolutely sick of Russia and extramarital affairs. At this point, she almost wished for homework… research papers… busy-work… anything to break the monotony.

Slight movement outside her cells wasn't what caught her attention—it was the brief glimpse of white that made her turn her head at the last second.

A tall, slender woman with long white hair was walking—nearly _gliding_—past her cell, towards the cells that were located in the inner part of the center. It wasn't hard to figure out; they put the most dangerous offenders in more centralized cells to make escape more difficult.

Images clicked through her mind and she connected the only two white haired people she'd ever seen in her life.

_Wonder if they're related?_ she thought idly, returning to her raindrop races.

* * *

"What do the prisoners look like?" one little girl in blonde pigtails asked, raising her hand. 

"They were white pajamas with black stripes, stupid," another kid answered before Kagome could open her mouth.

"Don't call each other 'stupid'," the teacher said from her desk, not looking up from the tests she was grading.

"Actually, they don't wear the jailbird suits at all," said Kagome loudly, talking over the loud whispers of the bored first graders. "They wear scrubs—like doctors."

"Orange ones?" a little boy shouted.

"All… different colors, in fact…" Kagome said, getting the distinct feeling that the teacher was merely sick and tired of teaching and needed a break. Simmering, she tried to think about something else to say before the kids started yelling at each other again. "I met Inuyasha, you know."

All chatter stopped and twenty pairs of eyes stared straight at her. Kagome winced, regretting the words the moment they left her mouth.

"_The_ Inuyasha?" someone whispered.

"The murderer?"

"Who killed that… _prostitute_?"

Muffled gasps and giggles erupted when the "p-word" was uttered.

"Settle down!" the teacher snapped. "And Thomas, we don't use that word!"

"Aw, how'd you know it was me?" he grumbled, slumping down into his chair.

Kagome was wondering the same thing herself. The teacher hadn't looked up once.

"Miss!" one little girl was waving her hand around urgently. She looked as if she was trying to swat away flies.

"Yes?" said Kagome, pointing to the girl and feeling rather like a teacher.

"The newspapers say that Inuyasha is going to be killed by the 'lectric chair… is that true?"

A silence fell over the room once again. The collar of her oxford shirt suddenly seemed suffocating to Kagome, and she attempted to swallow around the lump in her throat. "I… some people think Inuyasha should have to pay for the alleged—er, the murder they think he did."

"But he _did_ murder that lady, Miss!" a little boy yelled. "MY daddy said so! He said, 'what can you expect from a demon?' He said they should all be killed."

"Now, Billy, don't go repeating such things," the teacher remonstrated monotonously.

"Not … _all_ demons are bad," said Kagome hesitantly, wondering how she was going to discuss such a topic with a room full of seven-year-olds. "Just like not all humans are nice. Right?"

The children just stared at her. "But demons are evil monsters that are out to destroy the world," one boy piped up. The other children murmured their agreement.

Kagome couldn't find a reply for several minutes.

_Inuyasha… is this what you have to face every day?_

Could his trial have possibly been biased?

She really didn't know what to think.

* * *

"Kagome…Kagome…Kagome…Kagome…" 

"Eh?" Called girl jerked out of her daydream and blinked at the three faces peering down at her. "Oh, hi, guys, when did you get here?"

Her three friends exchanged a look. "We've been standing here for at least five minutes calling your name."

Kagome blinked again. "Oh… sorry… How long has class been over?"

"About fifteen minutes now," said Ayumi cheerfully, nudging Kagome over so that she could sit down. Eri and Yuka claimed empty desks around her. "So, tell us about this daydream that kept your eyes glazed over for so long."

"It wasn't a daydream!" she said defensively. "I was thinking."

"Pretty heavy stuff," commented Eri.

"Yes."

Silence reigned for a full minute before Eri continued, "Well, aren't you going to tell us what you were thinking about? Or…_who_ you were thinking about?"

"Eh…" Kagome couldn't stop the blush that spread across her cheeks. _Dammit, what the hell am I blushing for?_

"Ohhh—" Three identical grins spread across her friends' faces. "Who is he?" they demanded together.

"N-no one—it's not like that—"

"I'll bet it's Miroku, isn't it?" Yuka said immediately. "You've been spending so much time with him—"

"No, it's Inuyasha," argued Eri.

"_Inuyasha_? Pffffft—" Yuka snorted. "Eri, get real. He's a _convict_."

"That doesn't make him a bad person!"

"It does too! You can't base your perception of life off romance novels—"

"You needn't be so dismissing towards the idea of love just because you're a feminist—"

While Eri and Yuka argued about love and fairy tales, Ayumi turned to Kagome and said quietly, "You were thinking about Inuyasha, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah—but not in a romantic way," she added hastily.

"I know."

"I don't know, Ayumi. A part of me wants to be a friend to him, wants to help him—but the other side of me knows that he _is _dangerous and no matter how good I make him out to be in my fantasy image, there's probably a whole 'nother side to him I haven't seen…"

"I think you shouldn't worry so much," replied Ayumi. "He can't hurt you in the center, can he? With all those aides around?"

Kagome gave her a look. "He could snap my neck in a second. Or tear me apart with his claws before I could scream for help. Or—"

"Okay, okay! Ew."

"Sorry."

Ayumi calmed down enough to say, "Still—don't be afraid of helping, Kagome. From what you've told us, he's been hurt. Badly. It's probably okay to assume that he's never really seen true love before. No, stupid, I don't mean the fairy tale someday-my-freaking-prince-will-come love… I mean a true friendship-I'll-always-be-here love. Get my point?"

"Yeah. But he's so hard to talk to! I get the feeling that I annoy him more than I help him."

Ayumi shrugged. "No one said this was going to be easy. And it's only for another two weeks, remember?"

"Geez, that's it?" She ran through the calendar in her head and was shaken to discover her friend was correct. "Wow… It's going to be weird not rushing there after school every day… man, that'll be nice."

"Mmm," agreed Ayumi. "Won't you miss it at all?"

"Of course. I'm sure on my last day there I'll be crying into my dirty pail of water, using the sponges to wipe my tears—out of pure sentimentality." Kagome gave her friend a look. "Not really, no."

Ayumi smiled knowingly. "You knew what I was referring to."

"Did I?"

"Stop being so evasive. I mean Inuyasha."

"What about him?"

"Will you miss him?"

"Sure, just like I miss that raccoon that used to dig around our trash can—"

"_Kagome_." Ayumi sighed and leaned over, propping her elbow up on the desk and resting her chin on her fist. "I've known you since first grade; you can't hide anything from me. You're attracted to him aren't you?"

"What, me?" she squeaked.

"Yes, you. It's that whole 'good girl, bad boy' complex, isn't it?"

"I… don't know?" Kagome groaned and rubbed her temples. "Okay. So I am. I'm not even sure it's _that _kind of attraction, Ayu… I don't think it's lust, and it's definitely not love, but maybe… a more kindred soul type of thing?"

"Or pity?" her friend suggested.

Kagome shook her head, her dangling earrings slapping lightly against her cheeks. "No, I don't think it's that. I just feel—protective towards him for some reason. He puts on this Tough Guy front, but I've seen him act kind and considerate and… vulnerable… despite his rude and crass exterior."

"You sure it's not an act?"

"I don't know… I don't think so."

"He could be duping you."

"For what reason?"

"To seduce you?"

"Ha! Hardly. He hates me because I look like his dead girlfriend… fiancée… lover… or whatever the heck she was… remember?"

"That's right: the prostitute."

Kagome winced slightly. "Yeah."

The lunch bell shrilled through the school at that moment, and there was a jumble of scraping desks and swishing of papers as teens sprinted out of classrooms in hopes of being first in the lunch line.

"Just be your normal, caring self around him, Kagome," said Ayumi as she rose. "I think what Inuyasha needs most right now is a friend who cares about him. Not a judge; not a lover—a friend."

"That's just it—I don't think he wants a friend."

"Want and need are not the same."

Kagome sighed and played with the pleats on her skirt. "We'll see."

"Come on, slowpokes!" Eri called, tapping her watch impatiently. "I'm starving! Lunch is going to be over by the time we get there!"

"What do the feed the people at juvy?" Ayumi asked quietly as she and Kagome collected their things.

"Oh…normal stuff… I guess…"

"Maybe you should bring him food this afternoon."

Kagome stared at her blankly. "For what reason?"

"Oh… well… you know how that saying goes—'the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.'" Ayumi grinned mischievously.

Kagome glared at her friend. "For one thing, Miss Ayumi, I am _not_ trying to get to Inuyasha's heart. For another, what on earth would I bring him?"

Ayumi shrugged. "Nothing fancy. Just something out of your closet. Cookies, chips…?"

"All we've got is ramen, ramen, and more ramen. And maybe spicy ramen."

"So bring that. You can't go wrong with ramen."

"Watch him be allergic," said Kagome under her breath.

* * *

When the last bell of the day sounded, Kagome dashed out of the school and headed straight for the student parking lot, not even bothering to drop off her unneeded books and binders in her locker. Breathing heavily, she looked for Miroku's car, but didn't see it. 

_Miroku, you'd better not be hanging around the locker room with your jock friends._ She kept looking, impatiently tapping her foot as floods of people flowed around her.

"Hey, Beautiful." An arm snaked around her waist and propelled her forward.

"Miroku. About time." She pulled his arm off and placed it as his side. "Hands to yourself."

He smirked. "Of course." He directed her towards the lot where his car was parked.

"Are we still going to bust Kohaku out?"

"You bet."

"And… how exactly are we going to do this again?"

"No idea. I'm hoping some last-minute inspiration will come when we get there."

"Miroku!"

"Just kidding." He unlocked her door and opened it for her, showing one of his rare displays of chivalry. "I'm counting on my silver tongue to get us out of trouble."

"Why doesn't that reassure me?" she muttered.

* * *

"King Egbert of Wessex, 802-836… King Aethelwulf of Wessex, 839 A.D. to 855 A.D.… King Aethelbald of Wessex, 855 A.D. to 860 A. D.… King Aethelbert of Wessex, 860 A.D. to …" Shippo trailed off on his list of early English monarchs as a shadow in the hallway steadily grew larger… until it stopped in front of his cell. 

The kit's eyes widened. "I-Inuyasha—"

"No, I don't know the first of the Carolingian line in France. Bug off." Inuyasha didn't move from his curled up position on his cot.

"No, really, Inuyasha—"

"And I don't know the kinds of the early line of Prussia either."

"_Inuyasha_—"

"Nor Poland!"

"Inu—!" cried Shippo.

"Amusing as this little game is," a deep voice resonated. "I have not the time to waste listening to such foolish ramblings."

Inuyasha's back stiffened straight as a rod and he slowly sat up. "Sesshomaru," he said flatly. "How… pleasant to see you again."

* * *

Miroku put the car into park and looked at Kagome. "Well…" 

"Let's just get this over with." Kagome opened the door and jumped out.

"No, wait!" Miroku hastily groped for the door handle, missing it the first few times. "Kagome!" He leaped out of the car as well and bounded in front of her. "Stay behind me," he ordered. "We didn't exactly get a hospitable reception last time."

"Are you expecting trouble?" She frowned.

"Yes. Now stay behind me!" He took a breath and started forward. "We've got to do this carefully—"

"Wait, you forgot to lock the car."

He pressed a button on his keys without looking back. "Let's go."

With baited breath, Kagome followed him to the front door of the dilapidated house. He knocked on the door three times before it finally opened a crack. The old woman glared at them through the tiny slit she left open. "What the hell d'you want."

"We'd like to come in, please."

"No."

Kagome bit her lip.

"Please, ma'am?" Miroku asked. "We just want to talk with you for a minute."

"I'm sure you do. And take that boy away from me, huh? And try and use 'evidence' against me to put me outta business, huh? How d'you expect me to feed my kids? To buy clothes? I need to live too!"

Kagome could smell the alcohol on her breath from behind Miroku. _Yeah, how much of that money is actually going to your kids?_

"Ma'am if we could just—"

"Get off of my property!" The door flew open and revealed a gun in the woman's hand.

Kagome's breath hitched in her throat and her knees nearly gave out. A gun. The woman had a gun. For all the action movies and suspense novels she'd read, nothing could have prepared her for the numbness that overcame her body at the sight of a weapon. One slip of the intoxicated woman's finger, and Miroku's life could be snuffed away. _Her _life could be snuffed away.

_Breathe, Kagome, breathe… Miroku, let's get out of here!_

"Put that down," ordered Miroku. "We just want to talk."

"So talk," the woman cackled.

Miroku sighed. "Kagome," he said, not turning around. "Please go get in the car."

"What? N-no, I'm staying here with—"

He slipped his car keys inter her fingers. "Go. Give me fifteen minutes."

Kagome caught the unsaid _"—before you call the police."_ "Okay…" She slowly backed away from the front door, not really wanting to turn her back to that woman.

She made it halfway to the car before her nerves caught up with her; she broke into a sprint and hurriedly unlocked the car, diving into the passenger seat like the devil himself was on her heels. Once she was safely enclosed in the car, she dived for her cell phone, which was stuffed in a pocket of her backpack, and turned it on with shaking fingers.

She wasn't in the habit of praying—she'd never been very religious—but now her entire self was screaming to whatever was up there. _Please, please, please if you can by some bending of the rules of science and physics hear me… please keep Miroku safe. I want Sango to see her brother; I don't want to be forbidden from coming to juvy again… _

The end of fifteen minutes saw Kagome still huddled in the seat, clutching her cell phone for dear life. Fifteen agonizing minutes in which she watched every move the second hand on her watch made. Her breathing sounded amplified in the stark silence of the car.

Sixteen minutes. Kagome physically sat on her hands. _I'll give him one more minute._

Seventeen minutes. Pulling her hands out from underneath her, Kagome flipped open her phone and dialed 9-1-1. Her thumb was inches away from the "call" button when, out of her peripheral vision, she caught sight of two figures walking towards the car.

_Miroku! Kohaku!_

Kagome bolted out of the car, forgetting to unbuckled her seatbelt _again_, and threw her arms around Kohaku in happiness. "Miroku! You did it!" She knelt and touched the boy's face. "Oh, Sango will be so happy to see you…"

Kohaku looked a little bewildered at her display of affection. "You're taking me to see her?" he mumbled.

"Right now." She smiled at Miroku, who grinned back.

Once they were inside the car, Miroku wasted no time in driving away from the foster home at nearly sixty miles per hour. "It took every bit of my negotiating skills to get that woman to relent," he reported grimly, his eyes on the road. "I almost thought it wouldn't work."

"How'd you get her to agree, then?" she asked, glancing back to look at Kohaku. The boy was staring out the window with an unreadable expression, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Miroku looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "It's not important."

"What do you mean, 'it's not important'?" repeated Kagome accusingly. "Did you blackmail her or something?"

"Don't worry about it. All's well that end's well, right?" He smiled tightly and quickly changed the subject. "I'm just hoping Sango's reaction will be worth it."

Kagome smiled to herself. _I think he really does like her… even if he doesn't realize it himself._ "Oh, I'm sure it will be."

* * *

"You're not looking well, Inuyasha." 

"Really?" Inuyasha looked down at himself in mock horror. "Dear me, I've lost weight! And these clothes!" He clicked his tongue. "_Completely_ unacceptable. Sesshomaru, you really must start a juvy reform crusade. Do you think Saks will donate clothes to us? Perhaps we should all wear Ethan Allen sleepwear as well?"

"I have just heard," Sesshomaru said loudly, "from my lawyer of an… interesting twist in your little mess of a love tryst."

"Don't call it that," snarled Inuyasha jumping off the cot and stalking toward the bars that separated him from his half-brother.

"Apparently the police just found another body in the room of the crime."

"What do you mean they found another body?" Inuyasha literally growled.

"Stuffed in the closet. Apparently they put a newbie on the site investigation and the incompetent buffoon missed the closet in his sweep. The body looks to be a maid that stumbled in on an… unsavory scene."

"I didn't murder her. Him. Or Kikyo. Or whatever new type of bullshit they're going to try and pin on me."

"That," said Sesshomaru, looking hard at Inuyasha, "is for the jury to decide."

"Of course you wouldn't trust me."

"Don't make me out to be the bad guy, Inuyasha. This is _your_ mess. I just thought I'd let you know what you're up against." He turned on his heel and glided out of sight.

"Go fuck yourself, asshole!" Inuyasha shouted. He whirled around and kicked his cot as hard as he could, causing the bed to nearly fold in half. A string of choice curse words follow the enormous clatter of bending metal.

Shippo cowered against the wall in terrified silence. When Inuyasha turned angry, red eyes on him, he shrieked, "Don't hit me! _Don't hurt me, please!_"

The pleading cries stopped Inuyasha in his tracks and he clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to get himself under control. "Shippo."

"Don't hurt me!"

"Shippo, stop it!" Inuyasha roughly pulled the kit into an awkward embrace. The kit shrieked and clawed at him, but Inuyasha didn't let go.

Footsteps bounded down the hallway, and a guard skidded to a stop in front of their cell. "What's going on in here?" he demanded, huffing.

"Kid had a nightmare," said Inuyasha. "He'll be okay. Go back to your doughnuts and coffee—I've got this under control."

The guard glared. "I'll take the liberty of contacting the psychiatrist for you, Dr. Phil."

"You do that, Porky."

The guard stomped away.

It took a full five minutes for the failing and crying to stop, but silence finally descended over the cell.

"I won't hurt you, Shippo," said Inuyasha, feeling guilty for scaring the kid like that. "I may rip my half-brother to shreds and feed him through a sewing machine, but I won't hurt you."

Shippo just whimpered in response.

There was only a certain capacity to which Inuyasha could show emotion—and he'd just about burned out both ends of the spectrum in under ten minutes. He carefully set the kit down on the unharmed cot and went to lay down on his own mangled one. He was flexible; the awkward position didn't bother him.

He sunk his claws into the mattress for good measure and tried his hardest to fall asleep.

At this exact moment, a schoolgirl in boy's gym shorts and a happy smile on her face entered the hallway.

* * *

Miroku was new to this feeling of lightheadedness. His step had a spring of anxiousness and he had to stop himself from _dragging_ Kohaku to his sister's cell. 

He wanted to see Sango's face when she noticed her brother. He wanted to see her happy. He wanted her to thank him in a—

_No._ He didn't want her to thank him. He didn't want her thanks. He didn't know why—but he was too preoccupied to question his rationale.

One hallway to go. The key he'd swiped from the receptionist was digging into his slick palm.

Kohaku's shoulders had tensed and he had unconsciously begun to walk faster. Miroku didn't protest. By the time they reached the end of the corridor, both males were practically running.

They passed the cells at lightning-fast speed. Miroku halted so suddenly that Kohaku passed Sango's cell before he realized Miroku wasn't beside him anymore. Then he doubled back and grabbed the bars of the cell with both hands. "Sango!"

Sango, who had been listelessly staring out the window, started and stared at the two people standing in front of her cell. She blanched and scrambled to her feet. "Kohaku…!"

"Sango!"

Miroku swallowed, not missing the tears that were pooling in the corners of Kohaku's eyes. He inserted the key in the lock, unable to open it the first two tries because Kohaku was shaking the bars so much. "Calm down, kid, I'll have this cage open in a minute."

Kohaku didn't appear to hear him. Sango was trying to hug him through the bars of the cell door, which, admittedly, wasn't working very well. When Miroku finally got the lock open, Kohaku was in the cell so fast that Miroku stumbled a bit from the force left in his wake.

"Kohaku! Oh my baby, how are you?" Sango was squeezing the life out of her brother. "I can't believe it's you—I can't believe you're here—"

"Only for a little," said Kohaku, his arms around his sister's waist. "He said we only had an hour. But he said I can come back, every week if I want to!"

"He…?" For the first time, Sango noticed Miroku standing outside the cell.

The smile she gave him would be forever imprinted in his memory: he could've sworn the whole hallway brightened by a good one-hundred watts.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ beth1685, you are a genius. Do you analyze stories for a living? And thanks so much to everyone else who reviews—GAC's reached over 150! I love you guys! Though SORRY for making you wait so long for this chapter… and then giving it a rather dark theme with no romance. But it had to be done. And I promise I won't wait so long to update nexttime, hee. (; Next chapter WILL have romance in it. Yes yes. 


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